#but thank you for the ask lol this made my day!!!
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hotline | LN4
Characters - reader x Lando Norris
Location - I know Miami doesn't have any mountains but here I just felt like it so just go with it lol
summary - after being up and celebrating the whole night, you and Lando see the sunrise together.
A/N - It would be so nice if I had uploaded it before three days but I was very sleep deprived and the fact that I was in the middle of a forest for 4 days. anyways happy reading ✨
[y/n - your name]
Third Person's POV -
"I was meant to fly but Zak just told me we fly tomorrow so I'm not going to sleep. I'm going all the way. I might have more than just a scratch on my nose tomorrow, so I don't care, but I'll enjoy my time. This only happens once when you're taking your first win. It's nice to do it here in Miami,"
This was enough for you to know that the night is going to be absolutely crazy and wild. And you were very sure that none of you were gonna board the flight in one piece.
You were beyond the clouds. This was a feeling that no one could describe in mere words. The absolute bliss on Lando's face was ethereal. You could watch just him for eternity as he soaked up the sun on the podium. You were smiling so hard for so long seeing him this happy and you didn't realised that until your cheeks started hurting.
'I DID IT!' he had said holding the trophy towards you when he got back to the driver's room.
'YES!!YES YOU FUCKING DID!!' you said as you hugged him over the shoulders.
After 6 hours of clubbing and celebrating this sweet win with your boyfriend you had decided to go to a mountain top, alone. Maybe it was the alcohol which made the decision. You were more sober than him though. It was stupid. But nevertheless here you were now, sitting in the peaceful silence of the forest.
His head was in your lap and he could barely open his eyes. The alcohol was very heavy on his eyes. You both were freezing. Maybe not him since he had a jacket on but you definitely were cold.
You let your hand run through his soft curly hairs. A little chirp above in the tree got your attention. The stars in the sky above you had been staring had started disappearing. The dreamy dark night was filling with beautiful hopeful sunlight. That's when you realised it was morning. So it did happen. You were very happy for Lando. There are many more to come but wining this first one was a different feeling.
Lando was kind off in a passed out state but he was still very active and he quickly jolts his head when he hears little sniffs. Your tears fell onto his forehead as looks up to you.
'y/n?' he asked worriedly.
and when you sobbed a little louder he quickly sits back up to face you.
'Baby?' he frowns. He got worried and all the exhaustion & sleep deprivation wasn't helping him much.
'What why are you crying?' he managed to frame a question,
'I don't know!' you sobbed.
'hey?' he said, his large hands cupping your face.
'I'm proud of you Lan. I'm so proud of you!' you smiled as tears rolled down your cheeks.
'Come here.' he said pulling you in his arms.
'Stop crying.' he soothed you.
'Please stop crying! haven't you already cried enough?' he said, now his own voice had started to break.
'Y/n?' he chuckled.
You look up to him to see his face and you see tears threatening to leave his eyes.
'I'm sorry! we're in the middle of nowhere, you're hungover, our phones are dead and i'm crying!' you shivered a little as cool breeze passes through.
'I love you y/n' he says.
'You deserve this Lando, You deserve the world..' you smile at him teary eyed.
'Thank you love!' he says softly resting his forehead against yours.
He wiped off your tears and kisses you on the forehead. You snuggled into him once again and watched the sun as it rises from the horizon.
There were countless times when you were up all night partying and eventually pass out in the morning. But this. This morning had something different in it. It had the feeling of glory, the joy and celebrations. You wanted to stay like that forever, in his arms. It was perfect and it wasn't a dream.
__________________
[word count - 875]
not edited
#lando norris#f1#ln4#ln4 x reader#mclaren#formula 1#formula one#miami gp 2024#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando#papaya#f1 2024#mclaren f1#f1 imagine
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older part 3
think i need someone older, just a little bit colder, take the weight off your shoulders
synopsis: your friends say you're delusional for thinking you have a chance with jungkook, your parents' friends' son, but you just can't seem to let him go.
alternatively, you break jungkook's heart and jungkook enlists in the army to get over you--- but he can't just fuck off from your life forever; your lives are infinitely intertwined
word count: 21k
pairing: older!jk x afab reader
genre: age gap au (seven years), childhood acquaintance au, fluff, comedy, angsty, outta pocket, alludes to sexual innuendoes, there is a mention of jungkook shooting someone lol, non explicit smut, mentions of sex
OLDER MASTERLIST
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3
When it comes to you, Jungkook’s window of tolerance extends towards the sun and the stars, to Jupiter and Saturn, if you will. For you, he’ll willingly undertake deeds he won’t even entertain for anyone else.
Anything for you. Whenever and wherever.
He will, in fact, swoop in and rescue you from a 2AM party (like the Prince Charming he is), even if it means disrupting his beauty sleep because as much as likes your friends, he doesn’t trust them to take you home safely, especially when alcohol is involved. Scratch that, he doesn’t really trust anybody to take you home besides himself. Even with work the next day, the appeal of sleep drowns when you’re drunkenly texting him from some frat mansion at who knows where.
Approximately 10% of his biweekly earnings are devoted to you, his princess. He would never utter these sentiments aloud, yet he embraces them willingly, indulging in gestures of affection reserved solely for you.
He’s not afraid to wipe your tears, stick his fingers into your nose, or to touch any bodily fluid (given that it comes from you), because it’s you and his being simply isn’t capable of conjuring feelings of disgust when it’s you.
He sees you and he loves you, but a man can only take so much.
“What?” you ask quietly, breathless, like the wind’s been knocked from your lungs.
Jungkook exhales deeply, straightening his posture as he runs his hands across his face. “Y/N. Get out of my apartment. I’m serious.”
You think that this is the first time in the history of the world Jungkook has straight up told you to leave.
“Why?”
“Why?” Jungkook repeats, “What do you mean, why? You ignored me for four months straight. Thanks for spending the night, but you need to leave.”
Jungkook, just a man though he may be, is simply incapable to resist when you show up at his doorstep in the dead of the night- and even if he welcomes you into his home for the last time, he simply isn’t able to welcome you back into his heart. How could he willingly allow you to reclaim his heart’s residence after he’s worked so hard to expel you from its throne?
Your blatant disregard for his presence spoke volumes; you didn’t care for him nor did you respect him. Jungkook isn’t going to fold simply because he finds you beautiful and perfect and amazing and everything he’s ever wanted.
“So that’s all I am to you? A quick fuck?”
All the empathy he harbors disperses from his being like a passing breeze, ephemeral and elusive. Evidently, you’ve crossed the line.
Jungkook blinks at you, his expression unreadable, while you inwardly recoil, immediately regretting your words. Jungkook won’t even entertain the notion. He knows you know how much you mean to him, and quite frankly, he’s appalled that you’re blatantly weaponizing something as pure as his love.
“Y/N, I’m not going to see my family in a year, and you came to my place and made it all about yourself. You need to go,” Jungkook’s voice is firm and low, and he looks right at you, disappointment reflected in his pupils.
“I didn’t mean to make it about myself. I just wanted to see you,” You try so desperately hard to rationalize, but he’s right; you weren’t thinking about him, you were thinking about yourself.
“And by doing that, you made it about yourself-” Jungkook rubs his face with his palms, “Y/N. I don’t want to fight. Just go home.”
He hears a gentle sniffle escape you, and it elicits a heavy sigh from Jungkook. It's like a tug at his heartstrings, but he’s already beyond frustrated, and at this point, he wants to be alone.
“Jungkook, I-I love you,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. If I’m better by the time you come back, will you give me a chance?”
As you raise your head, tears cascading down your cheeks, Jungkook's heart clenches at the sight. Jungkook hates seeing you cry, and it makes his heart physically ache, but there will be no appeal to his emotions.
“Y/N- I mean- did you think I was gonna wait forever? You can’t treat a man like that and expect them to wait around forever.”
“But we had sex,” you counter, “The way you fucked me- I know you still love me- so please. I’ll be better. I’ll be better for you. Please,” you beg.
Jungkook exhales softly, leaning into the support of the wall behind him. He remains stoic, neither affirming nor refuting your observation. He offers no gesture of consolation, no attempt to dry your tears.
“Go home.”
If he doesn't want you there, then you’ll leave. Clumsily, you stand up from the bed, picking your clothes up from the ground before haphazardly slipping into them, leaving yourself vulnerable under Jungkook’s gaze.
He doesn’t walk you out.
You open the door and slam it closed before he can let another word out.
-
Jungkook has always been a constant presence in your life, like the warmth of the sun on a chilly morning.
He’s very aware of the image you have of him in your cute little head, and he does everything he can to fulfill that image for you. He’s well aware of your little prince charming fantasies revolving around him, and truly, truly does everything to be your Prince Charming.
He’ll indulge you, always- to the extent where Mingyu and Taehyung constantly throw the term “sugar daddy” around- and of course Jungkook will roll his eyes, but he won’t deny it.
Jungkook has dropped thousands on you. He’s a single man in his 20’s with way too much money, anyways. So what was he supposed to do? Let all his money sit in his 401K to ensure that he’s financially secure for retirement (🙄) or buy you an unnecessarily expensive designer dress and observe how your face lights up?
Obviously, he’ll choose the latter.
Simultaneously, that doesn’t mean you don’t make him feel the same way. This is so corny, but you’re kind of like the rainbow after a storm, bringing color back to his otherworldly, gloomy world.
Jungkook’s not perfect. Despite what you think, he’s far from perfect.
About half a year ago, he thought he hit rock bottom. And when he hit rock bottom, all he needed was you to remedy his mood.
There was an issue at work where he was accused of leaking confidential information to a competitor. The accusations were baseless, but the damage to his reputation was significant. It felt like his entire world was crumbling around him. He faced scrutiny from his colleagues and doubt from his superiors.
After an excruciating meeting with the company lawyers, he drove back to his mom’s place- his mood as dark as the night enveloping his luxury car. All he wanted was his mommy. He was a 25 year old grown ass man, but all he wanted was his mommy.
As he bursts through the front doors, the familiar scent of his mother's cooking greets his nostrils, wrapping him in a sense of comfort and the feeling of home. He heads towards the kitchen, until he walks into something…
You yelp, rubbing your hand over your forehead.
“Oh shit,” Jungkook mumbles, “My bad, baby. Didn’t see you” Jungkook says apologetically, placing his hands on your shoulders to stabilize you. His eyes glaze over your frame, and he smiles.
You’re in boyshorts and a tank top. Typically of you to treat his parents’ place like it was your own; you’re family anyways.
Jungkook whizzes past you, setting his work backpack on the kitchen counter. You follow him back into the kitchen, attending to the steak being grilled on the stovetop. You whirl around to face him, a mischievous smile spreading across your lips.
“You look… handsome,” you finally say.
Jungkook stares incredulously at you before he bursts into a smile at your anticss. “Oh really? You like me in business formal?”
You clasp your palms behind your back and shift your weight between your ankles. “Maybe?” you sheepishly respond, in your typical girlish nature.
Jungkook bites back a laugh, looking at you smugly. “Where’s mom?”
You shrug, “She’s probably with her second boyfriend,” you teasingly muse, lips pouted out before you turn around to perceive his reaction.
Jungkook scoffs at you amusedly before standing up to walk towards you. You smile sheepishly at him, not backing down when he practically towers over you. He pinches your cheek affectionately. “You’re cute, baby,” he jokes, and it makes your heart clench- not in a good way- because he means you’re cute… like a literal infant baby or a puppy, not a woman.
“Did my mom call you over?” he asks, rummaging through the fridge.
You nod, “Mm-hmm. She said she had to go run some errands so she wanted me to make you dinner,” you motion towards the steak sizzling in its pan. “Rare, just how you like it! Ta-da!”
He gazes at you with an affectionate smile. “Thanks. Did you drive here or do I need to drop you off?”
You make a pssh sound with your lips, dismissing the notion with a wave, “I’ve been driving for like two years,” you state matter-a-factly, throwing up a gyaru sign because why not, “I can drive home just fine.”
“Alright, yea,” Jungkook acquiesces, putting his hands up, “You’re all grown up- I get it, I get it.”
“Good,” you respond, plating his steak before handing it to him, “But Jungkook, why are you back home? You usually don’t come home on work nights.”
Jungkook settles at the dining table, before he looks at you and sighs. You tilt your head, very cognizant of his body language. You’re in love with him, of course you can read all his nonverbal cues.
“Just some shit at work,” he explains, “Has me stressed out of my mind.”
You pout, approaching him before you wrap and arm around his shoulder. The moment feels oddly intimate- like he’s returned to his two-story, middle-class home to his wife cooking up a home-made dinner, her touch everything he needs to bring him down from a stressful day at work. He swears he can even hear the kids crying from upstairs.
“Wanna talk about it?” you beckon with your sweet voice.
“Just been accused of some shit,” he mumbles, “Some illegal shit,” he adds, and you rest your head on his shoulder, making him freeze slightly and his chest tighten.
“Don’t worry,” you sweetly comfort, “The truth will always be revealed, and you’ll be cleared eventually. And besides, you’re young, rich, and hot. As long as you know who you are, you don’t need to worry about others.”
Jungkook’s brows furrow slightly before he relaxes his expression. What a juvenile, yet straightforward outlook on life. So simple, yet so… brilliant?
Jungkook knows that you’re more than capable of understanding the complex intricacies of the professional world, but he finds solace in its simplicity as a counterbalance to his excruciating overthinking.
He sighs blissfully, turning towards you. “Give me a hug, baby. I need a hug.”
You nod sweetly and wrap your arms around him. “Of course. Call me any time if you want a hug.”
-
You coming on to him the night before enlistment was his last opportunity to indulge in you, and he’s only just a man- a weak, weak man, so it’s simply in his nature to succumb to your allure.
Jungkook is now bald, devoid of any hair. Gone with his hair is his sense of confidence. Staring at his reflection, he runs a hand over his bald head, his mood becoming despondent.
One hour ago, you slammed his front door, scurrying down the stairs with tears cascading down your cheeks. Jungkook doesn’t like seeing you cry; he hates seeing you cry- but it’s time to let go and live.
The most daunting aspect of dating with an age-gap is the maturity discrepancy. Like two ships sailing different seas, Jungkook has sailed through weathered storms while your sail catches the wind of youthful possibility.
This discrepancy manifests through communication styles, lifestyle choices, and most importantly, love languages.
You would never, ever do anything to hurt him purposely- but you did.
Nonetheless, what was Jungkook supposed to expect? Undeniably, he loves you with everything in him but was he supposed to expect you to handle things with the maturity of someone his age?
He should’ve known, and for that, he feels dumb.
Feels dumb and like an idiot because you used to cartwheel in his room trying to get his attention. Feels dumb because when you were 11, he was already 18– like, what the fuck is that age gap?
What was he supposed to expect? You lost both of your parents at the same time when you were 20 years old. You’re traumatized, you’re young, and he kinda feels like he took advantage of your juvenile feelings for him- but no, a love like his is pure, and he wants nothing but the best for you, which is why he’s going to let go.
The wind from a slightly ajar window brushes, spreading the hair around the floor and suddenly glitter comes to mind.
Glitter. Sparkles. Fairy Dust.
When you were a senior in high school, Jungkook bought you a prom dress. Your bum ass boyfriend (or situationship- he doesn’t know. He wants to burn the memory of all men who you’ve been with before him) didn’t even want to go to prom with you, and Jungkook, as the great “mom’s friend’s son” he was, offered to buy you a dress- no budget.
-
Jungkook dropped by your place to drop off some sticky rice, as instructed by his mother; he was a good and obedient son. He knew your parents were at Zumba, so he sent you a quick text in advance. You always responded to his texts immediately, promptly, instantly, right away, and without delay.
You can only imagine Jungkook’s apprehension when it’s been thirty minutes and you still haven’t come to the door.
Normally, Jungkook would have been annoyed to wait this long for you, but he’s actually concerned– because what if you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere? Okay, maybe he shouldn’t go to such extremes, but you were undeniably a gorgeous girl, recently 18, and he knew that so many men had their eyes on you.
Not him, though. He was a gentleman.
Jungkook swings open the door of his car, swiftly walking towards your front door. On cue, the outer door swings open, and you’re standing apprehensively, struggling to unlock the screen door because the fucking lock always gets jammed. The lock just won’t budge and after a good second of trying, you bang your fist against the door, yelling a very non-intimidating “Fuck!”
Jungkook smiles, “Twist the door knob, then try the lock,” he gently instructs. You oblige, and the screen door swings open.
“I’ll come back tomorrow to fix that,” he adds before walking towards your kitchen to place the sticky rice into the fridge.
“Thanks,” you mumble, taking a seat at the dining table.
Jungkook glances back at you from the fridge, “Why’d you cry?”
The question is asked with a subtle casualty, and that makes you want to actually go curl into a ditch and die.
To Jungkook, it was painfully obvious. He’s known you since forever and has all your mannerisms ingrained into his mind like a tattoo. Usually, when you wake up, you’re quite lethargic, stumbling around with your eyes half cracked open- but right now, you’re cognizant as ever.
Furthermore, when you cry, your eyes usually swell up- more so than the average person. After you cry, it’s like your eyes turned into little, red, puffy balls with slits for seeing. And Jungkook had eyes, superb vision, actually, and he could clearly see that your eyes were in fact, swollen.
“t’s nothing,” you mumble, “It’s stupid.”
Jungkook purses his lips, contemplating whether he should push further. Your big mouth keeps going before he can get a word out.
“Well, if I tell you, promise not to judge me?” you ask, sticking out your pinky finger.
Jungkook locks the promise in. “Never,” he breathes.
“Well… it’s just… you know…”
Jungkook raises a brow.
“I just… I hate my boobs.”
Jungkook blinks at you, and you blink at him.
“You said you weren’t going to judge me!”
Jungkook is absolutely flabbergasted. “I just- wait-” he pauses, putting his hands up, “What’s wrong with your boobs? They look normal to me.”
Your features contort into petulance, and you pout. Immediately, you rise, wiping the dust off your shorts before you divulge into the full story. Jungkook can only sit there and listen.
“Okay, listen. Let me start from the beginning,” you start, pacing around, “So I ordered two prom dresses,” you explain, making a peace sign with your hands.
“And they looked so good on the models, but they look horrible on me! Because my boobs are so small and my body looks imbalanced! So I cried about it. I just wanted to feel pretty…. Do you think my parents will be mad at me if I get my tits done?”
Jungkook blinks at you. At the time, he hadn’t a clue of how to respond, but oh how he grew to love your boobs. In fact, he currently wishes that they were swinging in his face.
“Y/N, don’t get a boob job,” is the first thing he says.
What else could he say? He couldn’t tell you that he thinks your body is perfect, or that you’d look stunning in any dress you wear- he did not want to creep you out. “Lemme see you try the dresses,” he offers, “You’re probably in your head- it can’t be that bad.”
“I’m 18,” you counter, “It’s completely legal for me to get a boob job. I don’t even want D’s! I think I would be okay with B’s. In fact, all I need to do is sell a couple feet pictures and I’d have enough to finance my boob job-”
“Y/N. Just try on the dress.”
“Fine,” you huff, puffing up the stairs.
A few moments later, you reappear, and Jungkook almost chokes on his own saliva. The dress you're wearing captures his attention entirely. Its fabric shimmers under the kitchen light, a juxtaposition against the bland interior, cascading in gentle folds as it hugs your curves delicately. With each step, the skirt sways gently, whispering secrets of a night yet to unfold.
Gorgeous. Stunning. Most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he recalls the pang of guilt that washed over him, because you’re seven years younger, and it feels wrong, incongruous.
Fortunately for him, Jungkook is great at hiding his emotions, so even a slightly suspicious clearing of the throat does nothing to phase you.
You pause, blinking at him, and he blinks back at you.
“I told you it was bad!-”
“Wait, no. Stop. It’s not bad…” Jungkook offers.
You blink at each other again.
“Oh, you fucking liar!” you scoff.
“What?” Jungkook retorts, features morphing into confusion, “Why would I lie? I always just say whatever I want to say.“
You groan, plopping onto the dining room table with your arms crossed. “You don’t know anything about prom dresses,” you mutter.
This marked the first time Jungkook perceived you as a woman. He spent a year suppressing it all because of the guilt, but it became inevitable. It bubbled up and exploded; he couldn’t contain it anymore.
“Well…” he started, every so carefully pulling his wallet from his pocket, using two fingers to take out his credit card, “Would it make you feel better if I bought you another one? One more suitable for… flatter chests?”
You gasped like you’d never breathed air before, jumping to your feet, “Really? Would you really do that?!”
Jungkook shrugged casually, did everything to mask his thunderous heartbeat banging in his chest, “Yea, why not? I have money.”
At that, you squealed, jumping on both feet before you absolutely enveloped him in a hug.
Still staring at his reflection, Jungkook returns to Earth. You’re so childish and dumb, but he can’t help that he’s deeply enamored with you, and because of that, he’s going to go to the military and pretend like he never existed in the first place.
-
In the first few weeks at the military, Jungkook finds the distance more excruciating than he had when you ignored him. He enlisted in the first place to get his mind off you, to learn to live without you, but you’re the only person on his mind.
It certainly doesn’t help that he’s carrying a locket bearing your image, but he can’t bring himself to throw it out. He doesn’t even know why he has it in the first place, or why he had it custom made; he feels obsessive but whenever Jungkook’s on his last lap, his last pushup, or his last pullup, you’re the thought to propel him forward.
The military barracks are cold, dusty, and lonely. Sometimes, he can’t sleep, and on those restless nights, he finds himself reaching for the locket. Staring at the image of you smiling back at him, it’s like a tangible reminder of something he can’t quite explain.
He holds the locket in his hand, tracing the edges with its fingertips. He remembers your touch, your warmth, the way your hand fits perfectly in his.
True loser behavior.
You ignored him for fucking months, didn’t care how he was doing, or if he were laying dead in a ditch, yet he still loves you, still clings onto you. If he didn’t enlist, he probably would’ve ran back to you the moment you showed up at his place.
If anything, you’re not the type of girl who should be in a locket. You’re immature, childish, and rude, but he holds the locket close to his heart, because quite frankly, he hears how the men in the military speak about women, and he would never ever subject you to that.
Some guys hang up cute pictures and polaroids of their girlfriends on the bunks, which would almost immediately be thrown into the trash because of the insane comments from the (obviously single) guys.
Jungkook deems running as the most arduous drill in boot camp.
Jungkook can do three or five miles easily, but twelve miles with gear on? Absolutely not. What makes it worse is when the other guys try to make small talk- wasn’t running excruciating enough?
Even on the eighth mile, Jungkook clutches the locket tightly in his grasp. The sensation burning in his abs is borderline excruciating, and he opens the locket to glimpse at your image
James, the absolute deviant of the 8th squad, approaches Jungkook from the rear. “Who’s that, Jeon?” James asks.
Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut; this is the last thing he wanted. He says nothing, slightly accelerating in speed.
As James draws nearer, his tone dripping with mockery, Jungkook's muscles tense with apprehension.
"Come on, Jeon, spill it," James prods, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Who's the lucky lady in the locket?"
Jungkook's jaw clenches, his grip on the locket tightening. He knows the implications of revealing your identity in this environment, where vulnerability is exploited and secrets are ammunition.
"Just keep running," Jungkook retorts, his voice strained with suppressed frustration. Running 12 miles with 50 pounds of gear was already hell, why was he trying to pick a fight?
But James persists, matching Jungkook's stride with unsettling ease. "Oh, come on, Jeon, don't be shy," he taunts, edging closer. "Is she the reason you're always off in your own world during training?"
A surge of anger pulses through Jungkook's veins, his resolve fraying under James's relentless scrutiny. He fights to keep his emotions in check, knowing that any sign of weakness could be exploited.
With a steely gaze, Jungkook halts abruptly, turning to face James with a glare. "Back off, James," he warns, his voice laced with a dangerous edge, before he returns to his usual stride.
James's grin widens, sensing Jungkook's vulnerability. "Someone’s sensitive,” James teases, “Scared your girl’s with the mailman right now?”
Jungkook’s features harden, and he continues onto the ninth mile. His feet ache, and the mud is starting to seep into his socks. Jungkook opens his mouth to say something, but he’s cut off by Wooseok, who comes to his defense.
Wooseok bumps shoulder with James from behind. “Chill, James. He’s got her in a locket. Better not mess with that.”
-
Jungkook hates to admit it, but James got to his head.
Jungkook knows he’s the one who let you go, and that there’s no winning in this situation, but he’s selfish and the thought of you with another man makes him physically ill. Had it been any other girl, he would immediately lose interest the moment he discovered she was messing around with others- but the thought of you with someone else physically hurts.
He doesn’t have much access to his phone, and there’s nothing to take his mind off it.
There’s that taboo story about men in the military getting cheated on. It's a tale as old as time.
The fear of infidelity hangs over these soldiers constantly- but you’re not even his girlfriend.
So if you were to move on, there wouldn’t be a thing wrong with that.
Isn’t that what he wanted? For you to find happiness with someone your own age? Someone you would love, not just be infatuated with.
But fuck, why does it makes his heart swell? The thought of another man seeing you, feeling you, and touching you the way he has, the way he should be, makes him ill.
-
You know you said you were going to change, and you’re really, really trying. It’s been one month since your last encounter with Jungkook and you think things are taking an upward trajectory.
For one, you’ve started your internship with the local bank, and you’re making a lot of money (to your standards), definitely not a lot to someone like Jungkook, but it’s good enough for you. Since summer hit, you’ve retaken some of the classes you failed, and your GPA has now returned to the 3.0 range.
However, that doesn’t mean that your obsession with Jungkook has dwindled in the slightest. You’re childish in a sense, and you’re kind of taking advantage of your relationship with his parents to see what he’s up to at all times.
You’re snooping over Jungkook’s mother’s shoulder like the nosy girl you are, and you scandalously gasp at Jungkook’s text.
“Haha yea, Y/N looks pretty” is probably the most disingenuous thing he’s ever said about you.
Like sure, whatever, he’s calling you pretty but he’s only saying it because his mom asked him whether he thinks you’re pretty in the first place.
Your eyes continue skimming down the phone and you see something that makes your jaw drop to your ass
Jungkook’s mother shuts her phone off and squeals. “Oh Y/N! I can’t wait for Jungkookie to get married! I want grandbabies already, she pouts.
It’s like a punch to the gut. The thought of another girl walking down the aisle to marry Jungkook makes you sick to your stomach. It makes you so jealous you can’t fathom it. It's a visceral reaction, a knot tightening in your stomach as jealousy courses through your veins, clouding your thoughts and stirring emotions you never knew existed.
Every detail of the imagined scene plays out in your mind like a cruel movie reel, tormenting you with the painful reality of what could be.
With a forced smile, you manage to utter, "That's great, Mrs. Jeon. I'm sure Jungkook will make a wonderful husband one day."
-
Jungkook’s friends, in fact, do not hate you.
Actually, they’re quite nice and understanding of the situation at hand. Maybe it’s the fact that you shoved meat down their throats before explaining how you actually felt, or because you were somewhat valid in your decision to not acknowledge Jungkook’s existence for four months.
“He’s probably not mad at you,” Mingyu reasons, toying with the hem of his beanie before shoving a piece of beef into his mouth, “I don’t think he has the capacity to be angry at-”
Taehyung furrows his brows and Mingyu continues his sentiment, “at Y/N,” Mingyu clarifies, “He’d never be mad at Y/N.”
You sigh, using your chopsticks to flip some meat over, “He kicked me out of his apartment,” you express.
“No,” Taehyung contests, “You chose to move out, didn’t you?”
You chew on your lip apprehensively, suddenly finding the need to rake your fingers through your hair, “Yea, but I spent the night before he enlisted and he kicked me out in the morning.”
Taehyung pauses, exchanging glances with Mingyu. “By spend the night, you mean…?”
“Yes, I mean,” you confirm, “I just don’t want him to hate me. I know I fucked up, but I would never do anything to hurt him on purpose. I mean- not to use it as an excuse- but my parents’ suddenly died in a fucking car accident? Am I supposed to be normal after that? I didn’t mean to hurt him, I just couldn’t at the time, and I’m not sure if I can, at all.”
Mingyu purses his lips, “I just think he- you know- was super heartbroken. Y/N, Jungkook really loves you, and by love I mean that you’re probably the only girl he will ever love. He probably just needed time to process everything too,” he says gently, reaching out to give your hand a brotherly squeeze.
“You made him cry,” Taehyung asserts, and you pause.
“Seriously?”
Taehyung’s lips form into a straight line and he shrugs, “You made him cry. Showed up at my place in the middle of the night drunk and in tears over you.”
At that, you sink into the leather seat. Cry? You’ve known Jungkook since you were born and you’ve never seen him cry before.
You bang your head against the table- a little too hard- and you yelp in pain , clutching your forehead. Mingyu immediately whisks closer to you, gently removing your hand and scrutinizing the mark on your forehead.
You’re suddenly reminded of something Soobin said to you a couple weeks ago. Something about Jungkook’s friends are just as brotherly as Jungkook, always going the extra mile to take care of you, and suddenly you feel bad.
You groan, “Guys I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for things to get so messy. I’m sorry you have to deal with all of this- but I really care about Jungkook, I really do.”
Taehyung’s grumpy face finally relaxes, “We know you do, Y/N. No one is mad at you- trust me. But you have to make up your mind: do you want him or not? You can’t be wishy washy about this- Jungkook’s a lot older than you. He can’t waste his whole life waiting on you-”
“I want him,” you immediately declare, “I want him, and I’m ready to give everything to show that I love him.”
Mingyu smiles at you, “Well tell him that, not us.”
Your cheeks turn slightly pink. “Yea. I might.”
The rest of the night continues with ease. Mingyu and Taehyung ask you about school, give you professional advice for the future, and at the end of the night you reach over the table to give your card to the waitress, but Taehyung physically holds you back, and Mingyu gives his card to the waiter.
You’re truly so loved.
-
Things change and people change.
The first time Jungkook gets leave from the military is for the memorial service for your parents.
You’ve put the memorial service off for about a year. As their only daughter and remaining heir of your parents, the decision of when and where to hold the memorial service rested solely with you.
Yet, you just couldn’t bring yourself to go through with it, especially with Jungkook in the military.
Like the blossoming of spring, a year has passed, and at 21, you've graduated college, content yet eager for new beginnings.
When Jungkook's mother called you, brimming with excitement, inviting you to join in picking him up from the enlistment site, you couldn't find it in your heart to decline. Even when Jungkook kicked you from his apartment, you and he both knew that you couldn’t just fuck off from his life entirely.
Since birth, Jungkook has always been there. His parents, who are practically your aunt and uncle, have nurtured and cared for you since forever. You've shared in every significant milestone of his life, from graduations and birthdays, and when he gets married, you know you’ll be there, even if it tears you apart.
Your lives would be forever intertwined.
Had you changed since that night at his apartment? Kinda? Not really.
You've moved out from the mansion shared with friends to your own space. With a “lucrative” five-figure job, late-night parties and raves are a thing of the past. You’re all for early morning runs and late night reading.
With the anticipation of seeing Jungkook for the first time since that day, you find yourself more fixated on your outfit than you’ve ever been in your life. More so than prom, more so than Coachella, and more so than graduation.
Jungkook has only ever seen you in hoodies and sweats, a crop top and ripped jeans, or the occasional mini bodycon dress- you don’t think he’s ever seen you in business casual. You wear a chic satin blouse with jeans and closed toed heels.
Jungkook’s parents don’t really like to drive, so of course, you’re driving Jungkook’s Mercedes, (he so carefully left in the care of his parents), to the enlistment sight, which you’re sure he’ll be absolutely thrilled to see. He never let you drive his car out of the parking lot.
As you slide into the driver’s seat of the car, a wave of anxiety washes over you. This is the first time you would see him in an entire year- the longest you’ve been apart. What would he look like? Does he still have feelings for you? Is he still upset with you? Has he completely forgotten about you?
With a soft click, the engine hums to life, and you follow the GPS through the streets towards the enlistment sight. Jungkook’s parents sit in the back, occasionally passing you trail mix and bananas.
You pull up to the enlistment sight, waiting anxiously with your arms crossed amongst the crowds of people.
Jungkook emerges from the crowd in his military uniform, and your heart swells with pride and sorrow. He looks so handsome. He looks bigger, stronger, more rugged. You’ve seen celebrities and models in person before and they could never compare. You step to the side as he greets his parents, and when he turns his head, he locks eyes with you.
It’s like the world stops revolving.
It’s been a year since you’ve seen him and he never ever fails to make you feel this way. He’s made you feel this way since you were 15 and the feeling never dissipated, only amplified.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you swallow.
Jungkook doesn’t look at you in any type of way. His eyes scan over you and he sends you a genuine smile. “Hey Y/N,” he offers, opening his arms for a hug. You hug him from the side, reciprocating his polite smile. “Hi Jungkook. You look nice.”
“You look pretty,” he offers before turning towards his parents and casually taking the keys from your hand.
“Should we go now?”
Jungkook drives all the way home, with you in the passenger seat. You don’t say much. You find yourself simply listening as Jungkook shares with his parents what life in the military is like.
It was expected from everyone that Jungkook would do well in the army. When he was 15 years old, a personal trainer told him that he’d bulk up in muscle from just lifting a spoon.
After reaching home, Jungkook’s parents suggest you show him around your new place, and neither of you really have a choice but to oblige.
The moment Jungkook’s parents are dropped off at his place, an awkward silence absolutely encapsulates the inside of that Mercedes. You don’t say anything; you just lean your head on the window, looking outside the city where you and Jungkook have been for your entire life.
Jungkook says nothing either, tapping his fingers against the drivers’ wheel.
Finally, he speaks up. “Sorry I couldn’t make it to your graduation.”
“It’s fine,” you mumble in response, “You’re busy.”
“Yea.”
More silence overwhelms the car.
“So what did you do with your parents’ house?” he asks, flickering his eyes towards you. You push yourself further against the seat.
“AirBnb,” is all you can conjure.
Your parents were loaded and left you with a plethora of assets. The house, for one, is your second stream of income. You locked off yours and your parents’ room, and cleaned up the rest of the house for it to be rented out.
“Smart,” he offers.
“Thanks.”
He hums in response, tapping his fingers against the wheel. Instinctively, his hands reach towards the radio, turning the Bluetooth on, which of course is already connected to your phone.
Everytime by Ariana Grande blares through the radio, making you temporarily freeze.
I get weak and fall like a teenager
Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you?
I get drunk, pretend that I’m over it
Self-destruct, show up like an idiot
Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you?
I go back to you, back to you, back to you
Back to you, back to you, back to you
I go back to you, back to you, back to you, every time
You’ve had enough. You turn the radio off and roll the window down, your head peeking through from the outside while you let the wind blow against your face.
Jungkook doesn’t say anything either, just continues following the GPS to your apartment.
-
After what seems like forever, he eventually reaches the security gate. "4832," you mention, prompting him to enter the number and which opens the security gate.
“It’s good you live in a gated community,” he comments, “it’s safer that way.”
“Yea,” you agree, not really sure what else
You and Jungkook take the elevator to your place, and you punch the code in before letting Jungkook in.
Jungkook thinks your place is so you. It smells sweet, like vanilla. There’s a white, fluffy couch in front of the TV with stacks of Rilakkuma plushies. Your kitchen is clean, well organized; he sees a heart shaped bowl in the middle of the dining room table. Framed photos adorn the shelves: some of you with your parents, your friends, and one with him and his family from Jungkook’s college graduation.
You rub your palms on your jeans. “So, what do you think?”
“Nice,” he responds, “I’m proud of you.”
You purse your lips and nod. “Thanks… I have a room prepared for you– but is there anything you want to do tonight? Mingyu and Tae can come over, if you’d like.”
Jungkook toys with his lower lip before he tilts his head. It slightly bothers him that his friends have been over at yours, and that you mention it so casually- but of course, he doesn’t mention it.
“No, it’s cool,” he responds, “You look tired. You had to drive a while to get me,” he offers.
“No, no,” you shake your head, “It’s fine. Not a big deal…. You look strong.”
Jungkook smiles, “Yea. Military drills and stuff,” he rests a hand on the kitchen counter and leans against it.
His eyes flicker towards you, looking you up and down. You gulp.
“I missed you,” you finally say, “... and I bought you something.”
Jungkook raises a brow, watching you daintily step into your room to pull out a small black box. You hand it to him, and he delicately opens it. A golden chain.
“I don’t know,” you murmur, “I see lots of military guys wearing chains and I thought you’d like one too,” you offer, shifting your weight between your ankles.
“Thanks,” Jungkook says, “Probably the first time you’ve ever gotten me a gift,” he jokes, to which you playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll wear it when I get back to camp.”
You nod, rising on your tippy toes a bit. “And I’m sorry. For last time… y’know.”
Jungkook's expression crumbles. He licks his lips, “It’s okay. I should have been more understanding. You were going through a lot,” he whispers.
You nod. “I know. But I should have communicated more so I’m sorry. Just so you know, I’m still…”
What should you say? I’m still in love with you? I still think about you every day? I’m nothing without you?
Jungkook’s features soften, and you bite your lip.
"I'm still... here," you murmur, the words carrying the weight of your emotions as you struggle to articulate the depth of your feelings.
Jungkook's expression softens, a gentle understanding dawning in his eyes as he nods in acknowledgment. “I’ll always be here too,” is all he says.
Again, silence overwhelms the room.
“Right… well, my head hurts a little so I’m going to lie down for a bit. Wake me up if you need anything.”
Jungkook tilts his head, approaching you before he presses the back of his palm against your forehead. “You’re burning up,” he murmurs, and you swat his hand away.
“It’s fine. Just nervous about tomorrow,” you murmur.
“I’ll call Yeonjun.”
-
You didn’t expect him to offer to take care of you, cater to your every whim. You really didn’t.
However, straight-up leaving a moment later most definitely caught you off guard. Deep down, you had hoped for a gesture of consideration, like offering to pick up medicine from Walgreens or Walmart, or something.
In that instant, memories flood back of how he cared for you after your parents died. He was so attentive, so sweet. He home cooked you breakfast, meal prepped lunch, and ordered you take out in the evening. You were so out of it, too weak to even function and Jungkook catered to everything you needed.
It’s almost ironic that he zoomed from your apartment the moment he discovered you were ill. You shrug. There's no need to dwell on it or feel upset. It was odd that his parents suggested he spend the night with you. He should be with his parents anyways.
Even though you prepared a room for him, Jungkook goes back to his parents that night, and Yeonjun to yours.
Yeonjun is one of your best friends in the entire world, really, so you’re sorry that you’re treating him like this.
“Yeonjun, if we’re both single at 30, wanna get married?” You plead from the couch, your head resting on the arm and your feet dangling above the backseat.
Yeonjun graces you with the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen in your life. Yet, he still drapes a blanket over your frame, placing a wet cloth on your forehead. He doesn’t even entertain the notion.
“Maybe go back to Sunghoon. He’d seem desperate enough to give you another chance,” Yeonjun murmurs, resting on the opposing side of the couch with his arms crossed.
You pout, before bursting into laughter. You roll from the couch and land on the floor with a thud. Yeonjun joins you, sitting criss-cross applesauce across from you. He wipes a stray hair from your cheek, a cup of Buldak seemingly materializing in his hands. Seriously. Where’d he get that from?
“Y/N, that man does not want you,” Yeonjun states matter-a-factly, his demeanor solemn, a juxtaposition to the goofy red sauce stained around his lips.
And you can’t believe it, but you actually find it in you to giggle at that. Teetering back and forth from where you’re sitting, you sputter out a clumsy “Seems like I’m getting deja vu. How many times in your life have you told me that?”
“Millions,” Yeonjun shrugs, stuffing his face with ramen.
“But you were wrong,” you muse, “I did have a chance with him. He said he was in love with me.”
“Yea,” Yeonjun agrees, before tilting his head, “but you fumbled.”
“I fumbled,” you concur.
“You traumatized that man. He does not want your musty ass,” Yeonjun teases, flicking your forehead with his vacant hand.
“He does not want my musty ass,” you concur once again, a teasing smile spreading across your lips, before bursting into a fit of giggles.
Observing you, Yeonjun cracks a smile. “I’m glad you’re not being a crybaby about it anymore,” he comments, “FIrst loves are first loves,” he shrugs, “They say your second love is actually your true first love because they make you realize you weren’t actually in love with your first love.”
“Maybe,” you add, staring up at the ceiling fan swirling in circles and circles and circles- and it makes you dizzy. You squeeze your eyes shut. “Who would that even be?,” you ponder aloud, “Sunghoon is cute, but he doesn’t like me anymore.”
“Well, you can ask them, because I invited them over,” Yeonjun adds, suddenly locking eyes with you. You take a moment to process what he just said.
“What?-”
On cue, the doorbell rings, and Yeonjuns stands up, waltzing to get the door like he’s the owner of the damn apartment.
You scramble to your feet as Yeonjun swings open the door with a swish.
Heeseung and Sunghoon flood in, a teddy bear in Heeseung’s hands and a pot in Sunghoon’s.
Heeseung looks you up and down, sticking the teddy bear in your face. “Heard you were sick,” he says plainly, soliciting you to just blink at him.
Sunghoon scoffs from the side, “Yea Heeseung, just go add it to the stack of a hundred plushies she already has,” motioning towards your living room that indeed has a stack of Sanrio and Rilakkuma plushies in the corner.
You snort, snatching the teddy bear from his grimy little fingers. “Thanks… asshole.”
Sunghoon rummages through the fridge, placing his little pot in and taking a box of apple juice out. “I brought you dumpling soup. Just put it on the stove when you’re ready,” he instructs.
Heeseung joins Yeonjun in the living room, letting out a low whistle. “You have a pretty nice place, Y/N. Don’t miss living with us at all?”
You huff, stomping over towards Heeseung before pointing your finger in his face. “You slept with someone in my room!” you accuse, “No, I do not miss living with you!”
Heeseung puts his hands up, “Hey, I already apologized! That was in the past. I’m a born-again virgin now,” he continues.
You blink, exchanging a glance with Yeonjun before returning your gaze to Heeseung. The words leave you speechless, leaving you with nothing to say in response.
Nonetheless, you bend down to give him a hug, maneuvering to lie down on his thigh while you stare at the ceiling. “I have a fever guys,” you mumble, “Can’t have our entire university here bothering me and shit,” you joke, swatting their air like the boys are a bunch of pesky flies.
“Please,” Heeseung teases, “You’ll start crying the moment we leave.”
“Maybe,” slips from your mouth, and you run your hands over your face.
“What happened with Jungkook?” Sunghoon adds, a cup of Buldak ramen somehow also materializing in his hands. These boys are really raiding your ramen stash.
“Y/N fumbled,” Yeonjun answers for you, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.
Heeseung puts a hand on your forehead. “Holy shit Y/N! You really are burning up… are fevers contagious?”
“How gentlemanly of you,” you murmur.
“Wait, let me feel,” Sunghoon intervenes, pressing one hand against your forehead and the other against his. He gauges it for a moment. At that moment, you do recall that Sunghoon’s dad is a doctor, and he might have some magical prognosis for the situation at hand.
“Yea, you have a fever,” Sunghoon confirms.
You and Heeseung roll your eyes in unison.
“But what happened with Jungkook?” Sunghoon questions, settling back into his spot on the floor.
“I fumbled,” you respond, using Yeonjun’s words exactly. “But it’s fine. It’s whatever. I have a memorial service to worry about tomorrow,” you mutter.
At that, a solemn silence washes over the room. It doesn’t make you feel any type of way. You wouldn’t know what to say to a girl who lost both of her parents either.
“You also fumbled Sunghoon,” Heeseung jokes, immediately easing the atmosphere and eliciting an Oh c’mon from Sunghoon and laughter from you and Yeonjun.
Genuinely, you found that funny.
You feel complete and content.
-
Throughout the night, the three boys took turns tending to you, diligently replacing the ice pack on your forehead. It was crucial for your fever to break, knowing that the following day was your parents’ memorial service (the reason why Jungkook is even back in town). Yeonjun, Heeseung, and Sunghoon ran home to change into proper attire, promising you that they’d get back to you as soon as possible.
Drifting in, adorned in a long black skirt and a matching blouse, a black ribbon delicately tied into your hair in a half-up, half-down style, you arrive at the memorial service site several hours ahead of schedule- to grant yourself the necessary time for mental preparation and to ensure the arrangements have been made.
Sitting alone in the parking lot, the floodgates of your own emotions explode, and you drown in your own feelings. Since Jungkook's enlistment, you've buried yourself in work- barely finding time to arrange everything for the upcoming service.
You realize you haven’t even taken a moment to process how you truly feel about everything.
You’re only 21 years old. This fucking sucks.
You ache for the warmth of your parents' embrace, desperately missing the solace only your mother could provide. In moments like these, you find yourself longing for her gentle hug, her soothing words, and her infinite love.
You feel tears well in your waterline, and you immediately wipe them with your sleeve.
You had to be strong for your parents.
They never liked seeing you cry, always told you to be strong.
With a deep inhale, you swing open the door and stride into the memorial service center, ready to attend to the necessary preparations.
The moment you step into the building, your eyes lock onto Jungkook.
Adorned in a somber black suit with his hands tucked into his pockets, he paces anxiously, his presence immediately drawing your attention.
This isn’t the time; it really isn’t, but he’s perfect. He’s so handsome, even without his hair, even when he doesn’t talk to you, even when you don’t see him.
When he senses your presence, he immediately turns towards you.
“Y/N.”
“Jungkook. Thanks for being here,” you say, pulling him in for another side hug.
“Yea, of course,” he mumbles, “You feeling better?”
You nod, “Yea ‘m good. My fever broke… did the guy say anything?” ou inquire, swiftly diverting the conversation.
Jungkook appears slightly taken aback, but he responds, "Yeah. Good. They have everything set up. They just need the portrait of Auntie and Uncle."
Dangling your keys in front of him, you continue, "They're in the trunk. Can you get them? I have to- I have to use the restroom." Jungkook studies your face for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Yeah, totally."
"Thanks," you mumble before darting into the restroom.
Obviously, you’re on the verge of tears and he could palpably feel and see that. Once inside the stall, the floodgates burst open. The despondency of everything absolutely devours you and you feel so pitiful, so sad that you’re in this situation, and that your parents are gone– forever.
Your parents are gone. You think Jungkook is gone. You have nobody. You’re alone. The family that you grew up with… it would never be the same.
After a moment of letting your emotions flow, you take a deep breath and wipe your eyes. You had anticipated this moment, knowing that you would inevitably end up crying like a little baby, so you had opted for a bare face today.
You leave the restroom, hanging your head, and when you look up, you lock eyes with Jungkook.
With furrowed brows, his eyes sweep over your puffy ones, noticing the glossy scleras and the tears welling up once again. Staring at him, you feel pathetic, and you let out a quiet sob before burying your face into your hands.
And suddenly, you feel him.
Like the comfort of the gentle breeze on a Spring day, Jungkook envelops you with his strong arms, and suddenly everything’s okay. He holds you and it’s reminiscent of all the times he’s cared for you, doted on you, and expressed his love for you. He soothingly runs his hand up and down your back, pressing you against the wall and away from the eyes of bystanders.
You remain still, sniffling and drying your eyes, overwhelmed before pulling away. Jungkook runs a hand over your hair, eyes glazing over your face. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t need to.
The way he looks at you is enough. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.
The beauty of your relationship with Jungkook is that in itself. It would be alright. Everything would be alright so long as he’s there- even just as a friend.
To love someone is to love from afar. To love someone is to love without reciprocation. You love Jungkook and he loves you. Some people are so filled with hatred and resentment- the ability to even love after all you’ve been through is astounding in itself.
Your love for Jungkook is a powerful thing. It would carry you far, and to simply possess the ability to love is far more significant than being in a relationship with him.
“Y/N!” On cue, Yeonjun makes his appearance in the lobby, tilting his head when he sees you and Jungkook standing closely together by the hallway.
Jungkook motions towards Yeonjun, and you nod, not before you stand on your tiptoes to give him another hug– not a side hug, but a real hug. “Thank you,” you whisper against his neck before you skip towards Yeonjun and your other friends.
-
The memorial service begins and ends with reverence.
Surrounded by your family and friends, you begin to feel overwhelmed by your sense of community.
The service room is reminiscent of that of a church. You sit on the front row, Yeonjun on one side and Yunjin on the other. Both of them are holding each of your hands as you listen to your maternal aunt tell stories of your parents from their youth.
Through her words, you get a glimpse of your parents in their youth– just two kids stupid in love, youthful, lively, and brimming with aspirations. It gives you peace that they were able to live their dreams out before they died- one of those dreams being seeing you graduate high school. It’s a shame they weren’t present at your college graduation.
After listening to your aunt, your grandma, and Jungkook’s mom. Jungkook is next. You didn’t know he’d be talking, but his mom let you know that he had something prepared.
He saunters towards the front from the second row, hands in his pockets, before he clears his throat, taking a piece of paper from his pocket, coughing against his closed fist before he speaks up.
“Auntie ___ and Uncle ___ were the most selfless people I know. When my mother couldn't join me for Mother's Day lunch at school, Auntie __ stepped in. As I learned to ride a bike, it was Uncle ___ who stayed outside with me for hours, patiently assisting me as I struggled to find my balance,” he starts, meeting your eyes before looking back into the general audience.
“Auntie and Uncle were filled with so much love and trust. They embraced a more liberal parenting style, trusting in the inherent kindness of the world to play a role in shaping their daughter's character.”
It’s funny, because as he’s speaking about you, he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes. “They exposed her to life's various facets, both its joys and challenges, instilling in her a deep understanding of the world's complexities. And their approach paid off. They leave behind a daughter, one of the most compassionate and beautiful souls who embodies traits of independence, strength, and intelligence.”
Your heart clenches, and you raise your lashes, hanging onto his every word. You can feel your heart beating against your chest.
“To honor their legacy, let’s approach the world with less caution and more trust. Embrace the goodness of the world and live happily, just like Auntie ___ and Uncle ___ did. Thank you.”
Jungkook still doesn’t meet your eyes as he returns to his seat, but yours follows his all the way to his seat.
-
Right after the memorial service, Jungkook catches you off guard. He strides over, giving you a hug– a full hug– before whispering in your ear, the baritone of his voice causing goosebumps to erect on your skin. “I have to go now, but stay safe. I’ll see you when I get back.”
You look up at him, nodding. “Yea. See you.”
He doesn’t say anything else, walking towards his parents and taking the keys to his own car before he leaves. All your friends watch Jungkook just as intently, but nobody says anything. You don’t talk about Jungkook much with your friends anymore. There’s not really a reason to.
And just like that, you don’t see Jungkook for another six months.
-
The next time you see Jungkook is when he comes home from the military.
This time, you aren’t able to join his parents to pick him up, and it’s not because you’re avoiding him, but because you have an important meeting at work– a meeting that you just can’t wiggle your way out of.
Apparently, the higher ups are announcing something– something so important that apparently they need the entire company present…. And why couldn’t have this just been an email?
As the hours tick by, you sit in your cubicle, completing an analysis of consumer behavior for a client. Work isn’t particularly exciting nor is it a bore. You currently work in consulting, specializing in data analysis to help clients make decisions for their businesses.
At 4PM, an hour before everybody goes home, the higher ups gather everyone into the auditorium.
You sit next to Mary, one of the colleagues on your team, about 50 years old, who taps you on the shoulder and whispers. “My oh my, if they wanted to kill us all, this would be the perfect time to drop a bomb,” she jokes, which makes you smile.
That was a cute comment. You place your hand over hers. “Well, at least we’d go out together, right? HR won’t have to spend any more on those team building exercises,” you joke with a gag, prompting Mary to roll her eyes.
The tension in the room is palpable as the CEO takes the stage and clears their throat, prompting everyone’s attention.
"Good afternoon, everyone. I'm pleased to announce that after months of negotiations, we have finalized a merger agreement with HYBE Korea," the CEO declares, gesturing towards the screen where the company logo appears.
“This means that some of the departments will be relocating to HYBE," the CEO announces, his voice projecting as he gestures towards the screen displaying the company's new logo. "HYBE is investing in a new building equipped with state-of-the-art facilities, providing us with an exciting opportunity to expand our operations."
You pause, and that’s when the realization sinks in.
Jungkook works for HYBE.
"In celebration of this milestone, we will be hosting a party next month to commemorate the merger. More details will be sent through email.” the CEO continues, his words met with a ripple of applause and relieved smiles from the crowd. "It will be an opportunity for us to come together as a unified team and celebrate the bright future that lies ahead."
Mary’s saying something to you but you’re not even processing it, trying to understand the implications of the merger.
There’s no way you’d be working with Jungkook– imagine the odds of that. But, what if?
He gets back today and everything feels surreal.
-
After you get back to your car, Jungkook’s mother calls you, excitedly urging you to drive over to her place to celebrate Jungkook’s return from the military. You tell her that of course you’ll be there before you start driving down the oh so familiar streets to Jungkook’s child home.
Upon pulling up, you see a familiar face.
Rolling down the window, you call out his name, “Tae!!”
Taehyung, who is in the midst of walking towards the front door, whips his head towards your voice. “Y/N, hey!”
He waits for you to park, you clumsily grabbing onto your purse so you can meet him at the front.
“I missed you,” you say.
“I missed you too. Text me more,” he responds before scanning you up and down, “You look… fancy,” Taehyung comments to which you sigh playfully.
“You know, I chose to waste my life away as a corporate slave,” you muse, giving him a hug.
“Just like your boyfriend,” Taehyung jokes, making an obvious reference to Jungkook.
“Oh shut up,” you sigh, swatting his bicep, allowing him to open the door for you.
The moment you walk in, Jungkook’s mother squeals like she’s never seen you in her life. “Omo, omo, omo! Y/N is here everyone!” she announces excitedly, scurrying over to you, immediately latching onto your bicep to pull you towards the crowd, “Y/N is here! Y/N is here!”
Jungkook is standing by the dining table, surrounded by his aunts, uncles, and cousins. He lifts his head to meet eyes with you, offering you a gentle smile. The way he looks at you, smiles at you– it’s just, it makes your heart swell.
Every time you see him, it’s like time slows down.
You can imagine waking up this smile every morning, rolling over to find his handsome face gazing softly at you to-
Wait. Have you lost your mind?
And at that moment, you’re tackled to the ground by Jungkook’s six year old cousin, Jacob. If Jungkook is no longer in love with you, the only solace you have is the affection of his six year old cousin.
He grabs your face with both palms, causing your lips to pucker as he pouts at you. “Why didn’t you say hi to me?”
You gently grab his face and ruffle hush air. “Sowwy, Jacob. You’re too little I didn’t see you,” you reason to which Jacob, for some reason, becomes angry at.
He rolls over onto the ground, just to get up and stomp away. “I am not little!” he declares, stomping up the stairs. You can hear the door slam and you exchange bewildered glances with Jacob’s mother, who shakes her head.
“He's just going through a bit of a phase," she reassures you with a smile, before turning to follow Jacob upstairs. You lock eyes with Jungkook, who gives you a subtle smile.
The Jeon family is filled with drama queens.
Jungkook closes the distance between you. “Hey.”
You feel your heart skip a beat.
He’s as handsome as ever. Just like he’s always been.
“Hey, welcome back,” you sheepishly express, standing on your tiptoes to give him a hug.
He hugs you– like, really hugs you. Both of his strong arms snake around your waist, holding you against him securely. It leaves you weak in the knees. It’s a little too intimate for a casual, welcome back hug, but you haven’t a problem with it.
He pulls back, and all you can do is stare at him. You’re mesmerized. Again, he always makes you feel like this. This feeling will never dissipate.
“Did you just get back from work?”
You come back to Earth, pulled from your entrancement.
“Yea, I did…” You scan him up and down. He’s wearing something casual– a black T-shirt and black shorts, but his physique still looks perfect and he still looks perfect. Without thinking, you speak, “Did you happen to hear about the- no, nevermind.”
Jungkook tilts his head with a slightly teasing expression, “No, say it,” he urges
“The merger.”
“Merger?”
You say it in unison, and you bite a smile back.
Jungkook’s mom automatically intervenes, “Omo! Omo!” she exclaims, “A merger? What merger?”
“Y/N’s company and my company are merging,” Jungkook simply answers, looking at you to raise his brows.
“Omo!” she exclaims again, almost theatrically falling to her knees, “Does this mean that you two will be working together?” she asks, motioning towards you and Jungkook, to which you sheepishly shake your head.
“Probably not,” you dismiss, “I don’t even know if my department is relocating to the new facility.”
“Oh, I hope you do!” Jungkook’s mother pouts, “That would be absolutely perfect! It would be great if he could watch over you at work,” she reasons, before addressing the entire family, “Y/N is very pretty and gets hits on a lot,” she explains, making you squeeze your features in embarrassment.
All of Jungkook’s older family members murmur in agreement– and you appreciate the hype, you really do, but it’s embarrassing, especially in front of the entire family. You place a hand on Jungkook’s mother’s shoulder. “Excuse me for a moment, I’m going to use the restroom,” you whisper, to which she gives you two big thumbs ups.
On your way to the restroom, you stop in your tracks. None other than Yeonjun, the ANTAGONIST, steps out, swatting the air like he’d just taken a nasty shit.
You blink at him and he blinks at you.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you deadpan.
Yeonjun shrugs, “Jungkook’s aunt invited me. She thinks I’m a cutie pie.”
“Okay,” you roll your eyes, walking past him to inconspicuously drag him with you into the restroom.
You throw him onto the toilet seat, looking into the mirror to touch up your makeup.
“Y/N, this looks suspicious,” Yeonjun deadpans, watching you reapply your lip gloss and comb through your eyebrows.
At that, you drop your hand from your face. “Oh shit, that’s true,” you gasp, a hand coming over your mouth.
For the past– like– two years, Jungkook’s family has been under the impression that you and Yeonjun are dating. That notion couldn���t be farther from the truth.
You inhale sharply, turning towards Yeonjun, “You leave first and then I’ll follow.”
Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Sure thing, Y/N. Just pray that nobody’s waiting outside," he says with a mocking smile before slipping out of the restroom.
And of course, Jungkook’s mother was right outside the door. She shrieks.
-
Every single one of Jungkook’s aunts and uncles met you when you were just an itty-bitty baby.
Occasionally, you keep in touch with the aunts and uncles– not nearly as much as you do with Jungkook’s parents, but goodness, are you thankful for your connections to the Jeon family because you find out that Jungkook’s uncle won the lottery.
The literal lottery– and he bought a yacht, a yacht that he suggests to all the “kids” (a bunch of 20-something year olds, pushing 30) to go on a little cruise in celebration of Jungkook’s return.
You really wouldn’t be yourself if you didn’t rush home to get your bikini and sunscreen, and of course, you dragged Yeonjun along with you.
The yacht, even under the night sky, is the fanciest, most luxurious thing you've ever laid eyes on. Its lights twinkle like stars, casting a gentle glow on the water. It's like a dream come true, a magical oasis on the dark sea.
This is so cute, so summer.
With your towel laid against the deck, you’re lying on the deck like you’re suntanning, which isn’t possible because it’s the moon’s light that shines down on you, but at least it makes you feel like a magical moon fairy.
“Get the angles right!” you bark to which Yeonjun rolls his eyes to the back of his head and groans.
With your forearm resting against the deck, you hold your body up sideways, all your assets on display. With your knees touching, your hip touches the deck, and your other arm goes up in the air, and you’re waving it around like a little mermaid.
In a sense, you’re posing to get a cute Instagram pic– but also because you know Jungkook might be watching from the upper deck. He’s probably drinking with his friends, not even batting a lash nor caring about you, but you like to delude yourself into thinking that he could be checking you out from a distance.
“Y/N, I took like 300,” he deadpans, dismissing your complaints with a wave, “Take some for me now,” he instructs, standing up to hand you his phone, “I’m cuter than you so they better look better than yours.”
“Yea, yea. Whatever,” you muse, going along with the bit, holding up your phone to get all the good angles for your forever bestie.
-
Mingyu, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook sit on the upper deck, staring at the night sky with bottles of Soju in their hands. Like you and Yeonjun, they’re in their swim trunks, though no one is entirely certain they want to go for a swim in the chilly water.
Unbeknownst to you, the four men have a clear view of you from the upper deck.
The flash of the phone camera flickers comically, occasionally lighting up the mens’ faces as they all try to avoid looking at you– out of chivalry, of course.
Taehyung is particularly amusing, maintaining his expression of stoicism as he stares directly into the moon, taking an occasional sip of Soju.
At that moment, Jungkook knows that he chose the right friends because he himself can’t seem to rip his eyes from you. You’re beautiful; that is absolute, without a doubt– but something has changed– maybe it’s the angle that the cool breeze hits his face or the alcohol making him feel soothingly warm on the inside.
Jungkook sees it in your mannerisms, the way you poise yourself, the way you walk, the way you talk. You were gorgeous before, and he was insane about you before, but damn– you’ve become such a woman.
He knows what it is, but he’d be a dick to patronize you for it, to act like he’s proud of you for becoming more confident. Undoubtedly, you’ve developed a more profound sense of confidence and it makes Jungkook swell with pride because he remembers how you’ve agonized over your body, complaining about your boobs, your weight, your waist, when in reality everything was and is perfect.
You’re as beautiful as a Victoria’s Secret model, as ethereal as the goddess of beauty, and Jungkook’s just happy to see that you’ve embraced it.
You yourself would agree with the sentiment; it wasn’t until your 20’s that you grasped how utterly gorgeous you are, and how to embrace your beauty, make yourself look good and like you, not just like every other girl on Instagram.
Jimin clears his throat, “So.. now that you’re back, are you and Y/N going to…”
Jungkook lifts his head and looks at Jimin. He shakes his head. It’s firm and absolute. “No, it’s better for us to be friends.”
Mingyu raises a brow, “You can’t take your eyes off her.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he rationalizes, “People can like each other and still be incompatible.”
“Incompatible?” Taehyung repeats, a twinge of confrontation in his voice, “If I had a girl like Y/N in my life I’d propose immediately.”
Jungkook stares into the moon, “I need a cigarette-”
“Okay, what is wrong with you?” Jimin challenges, rising to his feet, “Y/N is right there,” Jimin whisper-yells, motioning towards the lower deck, “You clearly still feel something for her, so do something about it. I mean- how would you feel if someone– not me… I don’t know. How would you feel if Mingyu hit on her right now? And they started dating?’
“Why me?-”
“That would be inappropriate,” Jungkook retorts, “Y/N can date whoever she wants, just not you guys.”
“Then what about Yeonjun?” Taehyung intervenes calmly, “Yeonjun’s a good kid. She brings him to all your family events. They’re cute together, huh?” Taehyung motions towards the lower deck, where you and Yeonjun are laying on your sides facing each other, animatedly discussing something probably stupid, like penguins.
He notices the skinship, how your hand is casually thrown around Yeonjun’s waist, and how you occasionally swat at his shoulder whenever he says something a little too egregious.
No, it doesn’t bother Jungkook.
Jungkook actually likes that you have male friends, that you can maintain friendships with the opposite gender without it having to mean more.
It means that he can trust you, and that he can trust your friends to take care of you.
But what trust is at stake here? It’s not like you’re his girlfriend nor should he worry about who’s taking care of you or not taking care of you. Furthermore, it really isn’t his place to feel betrayed, like you cheated on him, by the prospect of you actually forming a relationship with Yeonjun–.
“See? You look hurt as fuck,” Taehyung affirms.
“I’m not hurt-”
“Get your shit together, and get your girl. Y/N’s not perfect, but she could be perfect for you,” Taehyung shrugs at his corny play of words, earning a playful shoulder nudge from Mingyu.
“Aye, that was a good one.”
On cue, he hears two inconspicuous splashes into the ocean, your squeals echoing across the atmosphere.
“Tag, you’re it!”
“Bitch! You just kicked my balls!”
“I said tag, you’re it!”
But wait, isn’t it a little too dark to be swimming this late?
-
When it comes to you it’s like Jungkook’s protective instinct never dies.
Descending the stairs to the lower deck, he watches Yeonjun as he climbs onto the deck. “Y/N, you need to stop kicking my nuts! Holy shit!”
“I said sorry!” you retort, “I didn’t know!”
Yeonjun grumbles something indistinctive before picking a towel up to roughly dry his hair, disappearing into the restroom.
“Y/N, it isn’t safe to swim alone at night,” Jungkook mumbles. He takes a seat on the lower deck, his feet submerged under the water. The water is icy cold, and he can’t conceive how you’re not shivering. He’s not being patronizing. He’s simply worried for your safety.
You swim towards him, hands latching around his ankles to stabilize yourself beneath the water.
It’s the casual skinship between you two. The way his hand lingered on your shoulder when he told you his uncle bought a yacht. It’s the way he can casually wipe food from your mouth with his bare hands without batting a lash. It’s the way your fingers trail up his legs so you can place your forearms against his thighs, resting your head on them.
“Then… why don’t you come join me..?”
Jungkook really doesn’t want to. The water is cold, the weather is cold, and he’s very much comfortable on the warm yacht.
….
Jungkook submerges himself under the water, coming up before flicking his head back to rid the water from his eyes.
“It’s cold as fuck, Y/N,” Jungkook mutters, body temperature still adjusting to the chilly water.
He freezes when your fingertips brush against his. abs— perhaps accidentally, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make him feel any less electrified.
“That’s why it’s good to have more than one person in here,” you rationalize, “More body heat.”
You’re treading against the water, and not doing a great job at it- your head bobs with the motion of the waves, and you find yourself sputtering the water out of your mouth as you speak.
Jungkook wipes his face haphazardly with his left hand before he reaches out to stabilize you, holding onto your bicep.
It makes your heart skip a beat. So big and strong. You can smell the shampoo on his wet hair, and it makes you dizzy because not only does he always look good, he always smells good.
Your eyes trail from his bicep to his shoulder, neck, and finally, to his eyes. He’s already looking at you, the warmth of his gaze making you feel so secure and safe.
You know he wants you. There’s no way he can look at you like this and not want you.
It hasn’t even been a day since he’s returned from the military and he looks at you the same way he looked at you from the night before he left: with love.
Your eyes flicker down to his lips, his pretty lips. He’s so pretty. You close the distance, wrapping your arms around his neck to stabilize you further, and you draw your lips to his-
Until he turns his head.
Still, his hands grab your waist, holding you close to him against the water, but he looks into the ocean, 90 degrees from you, refusing to look at you or meet your eyes.
“It’s cold, we should get out. I don’t want to get sick,” he suggests.
“Yea, okay,” you sheepishly agree, allowing him to hoist you onto the lower deck before following in your stead.
He throws you a vacant towel, “You alright?”
Catching it with a single hand, you use it to pat yourself dry, composing yourself before you stare at him.
“I’m fine.”
-
That night, Jungkook’s mother suggests you spend the night at her house, or that Jungkook drive you home given how late it is.
Instead, you sneak out of the house and drive home, far too embarrassed to be around Jungkook let alone look him in the eye.
That was so humiliating. You think about how you behaved while you were staying with him after your parents’ death. You exposed yourself to him in the shower and begged him to join you. What the hell were you even thinking? Should you just drive your car off this cliff?
When you pull into your apartment complex’s parking lot, you keep banging your head against the steering wheel in hopes that maybe you’d wake up and realize that tonight was just an embarrassing dream.
Well, unfortunately it wasn’t a dream, because later that night Jungkook shows up at your door with your wallet in his hand. You answer the door in a loose T-shirt, boyshorts, and a Snorlax plush headband on your head with a gray face mask.
“My mom told me to give this back to you.”
You take the wallet, “Thanks.”
You stand there for a moment, staring at him.
He looks at you, pursing his lips before he places a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, I’ll always care about you, alright?”
You nod, fidgeting with the charm of your necklace, “I know.”
“Good. I’ll be going, then,” Jungkook announces.
“Alright, drive safely,” you respond.
With a brief nod, Jungkook moves to shut the door and depart, and for some reason you just can’t bear to see him go so your hands instinctively reach for him, latching around his wrist.
Jungkook raises his eyebrows at you, and you almost yank your hand from him immediately.
“It’s nothing,” you express, biting your lip.
“Alright then, I’ll see you.”
“Good night.”
The moment he leaves, you scold yourself for being so emboldened. Weren’t you embarrassed enough? You open your fridge, pouring yourself a glass of champagne, before you pace around your apartment, your champagne swishing in your glass while you find yourself in deep contemplation.
Jungkook’s back.
Everything you’ve ever wanted is back, in front of you.
You hurt him, and apparently you made him cry, well- that was all in the past, anyways.
It doesn’t matter because you love him. You really do. You love him with your entire soul, heart, and being, and you know your feelings are reciprocated, so if there’s even a chance that he’s willing to give it another shot, you’ve got to do something about it.
Instinctively, you grab your laptop and place it on the dining table, stretching your fingers out to write the longest text message you’ve probably sent in your life.
Once your pinky finger presses the Enter key, you slam your laptop shut, pacing around your apartment until you hear a ding from your phone.
You nearly screech, running to your bathroom to wash off the face mask, putting some moisturizer on, combing through your eyebrows, and applying your lip gloss before-
Ding Dong
You open the door, looking up at Jungkook with big eyes while he looks down at you. He runs his hand through his hair before holding your face with his palms, studying you, his eyes urgently scanning your features for any hint of insincerity.
“You mean it?”
“Yes,” you say resolutely, struggling against his firm grasp, your lips slightly puckering.
“Prove it then,” he demands.
He lets go of your face and welcomes himself into your humble abode.
Taking a seat on your couch, he crosses his arms, watching you intently as if waiting for you to break out into a soliloquy.
You don’t know what to say, and you’re far too embarrassed to admit your transgressions aloud, until a light bulb appears over your head.
“My diary,” you suggest, “I’ll let you read… parts of my diary, but you have to prove it first.”
You expect him to ask you how, or to ask you what he’s supposed to be proving, but he doesn’t.
“Okay. C’mere,” he says with a tilt of his head. All you can do is shift your weight between ankles, before shyly approaching him.
“Sit,” he gently instructs.
You nod, about to seat yourself on the area beside him before he grabs your wrist and twirls you around so that you’re straddling him. Your hands find themselves on your shoulders, and Jungkook wraps his around your back.
“Y/N, I..” he starts, his gently brown orbs studying your features, “I know what you think of me,” he sighs as if just relinquished from holding the weight of the world, “and I promise you that I’m not that man,” he continues, scrutinizing your every nonverbal response.
“I’m selfish, I’m immature,” he starts, brushing your bangs from your face, “but never with you,” he finishes. “I always showed you the best parts of me, always wanted you to see me as someone you can rely on,” he expresses, gently cradling your face, “but I don’t think you realize how much I depend on you, how much I need you too.”
Your features scrunch, studying his features, digesting his words. He reaches in his pocket for something, before pulling out a heart shaped locket. He uses his other arm to delicately grasp your hand, placing the locket in your hand.
“Look at it,” he instructs, and you follow, your fingertips clumsily opening the locket. Your heart swells. The heart shaped locket bears an image of you.
“Being in the military wasn’t easy for me,” he continues, “but I had you with me. Had my favorite girl with me. You gave me strength.”
“When you left that morning, I regretted what I said to you. I thought I was too harsh, and that I’d lost you forever. That was one of the worst feelings in my life– but to me, I felt that you were the one who turned me down. I thought that you were just infatuated with me, that you wouldn’t care about me if you’d see how immature and selfish I really am. But I love you so much that I was okay with that. I’m okay with anything as long as it’s you,” he finally finishes.
You don’t know what to say. Your eyes flicker towards the locket, “You could’ve chosen a better picture,” you mumble, to which Jungkook amusedly scoffs.
“That’s all you have to say?” he muses.
Your cheeks turn strawberry pink, and you climb off his lap, running to your room to grab your diary. You return, skipping through the pages, before you land on the one you want to show him.
You jut it towards him, “Here.”
Jungkook’s eyes glaze over the page, and he starts reading it aloud, mocking your voice, “I graduate college today-”
You literally throw yourself on him to shut him up, “Do not.”
A cheeky smile dances across his face as his eyes scan over the page. After a moment, he looks up and pouts, “Awe, baby,” he coos.
Your face scrunches cutely.
“Come gimme a hug,” he sweetly beckons, to which you sheepishly jump into his lap again, his arms snaking around your waist while he soothingly runs his hands up and down your back.
“I’ll always be here for you, whether we’re together or not,” he whispers against your skin, “You mean everything to me.”
“I know,” you self-consciously respond.
"There's nothing you can do to be 'worthy' of me. I love you for you. You can be the world's richest person or the world's poorest person and there's nothing that would change for me, seriously. All you need to do is continue loving yourself, and that's good enough for me."
"Even if I turned into a worm? You'd still love me?" you ask, your voice coming out as a slight whimper.
Jungkook smiles. Obviously not, but of course, he'll indulge you. "Of course," he says, his voice like honey, "I'd carry you around in my pocket."
"Thanks," you sheepishly murmur, “There are just things I’m worried about, but I trust you with everything.”
He hums in agreement, “We’ll work it out.”
“Okay,” you concede, “I love you,” you confess, “I love you forever.”
“I love you forever too.”
The moment feels so intimate. Your chests are heart to heart, beating in unison as you relish the sensation of having him in your arms, having him back.
-
Dating Jungkook officially means you get to indulge in all of your innermost desires, the little things you never thought you’d see into fruition– because the reality is that you’ve seen Jungkook in every way. He’s been to your house thousands of times, and you’ve slept over at his hundreds of times, but having him in a different way fills you with an indescribable sense of excitement and joy.
He’s taken you shopping thousands of times, but this time is different. Jungkook is affectionately, overwhelmingly so. He’ll keep his fingers intertwined with yours even when your palms become drenched with sweat. As stated before, he doesn’t care about any distinct bodily fluid if it’s yours.
He’ll hold you from behind while you browse through clothes, give you the occasional peck when you’re in line– it seems like he’s enjoying this domestic intimacy as much as you are. The poor guy has been in the military for a whole year.
“That one’s cute,” he comments, motioning towards a white sundress hanging on the rack, just beside the crop top you’re currently looking at. He keeps your body close to him, his arms so casually thrown around you from behind. His fingers play with your hair, twirling it around his index, and every so often, he presses kisses to your cheek, neck, and skillfully cradles your face, forcing your jaw towards him for a sweet kiss.
“Should I try it on?” you ask with a cute tilt of your head.
“I like it,” he offers, “I rarely see you in dresses. You always look so pretty.”
His sentiment makes you blush– you’re already aware that when he’s around, you’ve only really been in casual clothes: crop tops, sweatpants, and flared leggings. You want to show him a new side of you.
“We could go to the beach together,” you offer.
Jungkook hums in agreement, “Of course, baby,” he agrees, “You looked really pretty in that matching skirt and crop top thing you wore last time.”
“Which one?”
“The one you broke my heart in,” he teases.
You amusedly scoff, twirling around to grab his face and press a kiss on his lips. He acts annoyed, doesn’t return the kiss, just stares down at you, but still chases your lips when you pull away.
If the skinship is this pervasive in public, you can’t imagine how he would behave behind closed doors.
Jungkook got back yesterday, and you think that he’s really taking his fill of you after being deprived from you for so long.
Yesterday was Friday, and today is Saturday… meaning that neither of you have nothing to do.
Nothing to do but look at cute princess dresses at the mall, cuddle, and watch Jujutsu Kaisen, obviously.
Even while doing something as mundane as watching anime from the floor, you sit in between his legs, back pressed up against his chest, and his arms around your waist, fingers playing and pinching with the chub of your tummy.
He can’t keep his hands off you.
The sounds of Gojo and Toji’s fight are drowned by the pounding of your cardiac palpitations. Jungkook’s large hands are splayed against the front of your body, his hands trailing up and around your stomach and back, rubbing your skin, and sinking his fingertips into your chub.
You gasp softly when you feel him unclasp your bra.
He pulls his arms around you even more securely, tugging you onto his lap before he buries his face into the crook of your neck, “You’re so soft,” he murmurs, and his hands return to your stomach– and you think they’re going to trail up. Perhaps he’ll grab a handful of titty or rub a nipple until he doesn’t-
His hands trail to your legs, rubbing his palms up and down each calf lovingly before he laces his fingers through your toes, and gently pushes you off his lap…?
He rises to his feet. “I’m hungry, want me to make some ramen for you?”
“Uh yea, sure,” you smile.
You and Jungkook have done it before: twice. Once at the beach villa and the second before he enlisted.
Every time was magical, electrifying, the best you’ve ever had. He led you through each and every step with expertise and he was so soft, so sweet, and it felt so fucking good.
Admittedly, your past, insecure, and inquisitive self did some snooping around and you are aware of Jungkook’s body count: 13. You were the 13th, and quite honestly, it didn’t make you feel the greatest; you despise the thought of Jungkook with another woman, but you suppose that there is something nice about having an experienced man.
It’s not like you weren’t inexperienced either.
Your body count was– like– 6.
It’s not like any of the men before Jungkook actually made you come. It felt good, you guess, but having sex with someone you’re in love with is indescribable.
You want to do it with him, but there’s something that makes you feel subconscious about making the first move, especially when it comes to something as intimate and forth putting as sex.
You don’t find yourself seductive enough to do so, and you already have societal norms against you.
Women are the gatekeepers of sex. Men are the ones who want to unlock the gate. Blah Blah Blah.
Well, you want to have sex too because you’re unbelievably in love and aroused by this man.
So, would you be making the first move? You’ve changed a lot since the emboldened 19 year old you once were.
In conclusion, no. You will absolutely not be making the first move. You will just have to suck it up.
-
That Saturday night, Jungkook stays over at your place.
Nothing happens, of course, but that doesn’t mean that Jungkook doesn’t spoon you like a prison inmate incarcerated in his little Jungkook cell. He snores softly against the crook of your neck.
Living alone isn’t easy, especially as a 21 year old (subjectively hot) girl. You double lock your doors. You have a baseball bat with nails hidden in the depths of your closet. While Jungkook was in the army, you had Yeonjun, Soobin, and Beomgyu on speed dial just in case anything were to happen.
It was stressful, and it gave you crippling anxiety at times.
But Jungkook is your Prince Charming in every way, from the way he makes you feel, to the way he dotes on you, and to the way he protects you. Jungkook’s got big strong military muscles, and you know that he’d never let anything happen to you.
Since forever, he’s always casually swept you towards the inside of the sidewalk, stepped in front of you when a stranger approached, and of course you aren’t aware of this, but the reason those creepy frat boys started leaving you alone was because of him.
The sun rises, its sweet rays as warm as the feeling intensifying your chest. Jungkook’s arms are still draped on your sides, and you turn over so you can get a real good glimpse at his sleeping face.
So handsome. Jungkook is sleeping calmly, soft snores leaving his mouth, and it brings you so much joy to see him at peace.
You run a thumb over his brow, pressing a soft kiss to the area in between his eyebrows. Slowly, his eyes open, and he’s staring at you with lidded eyes, and you can’t fathom how handsome you think he is.
“G’morning baby,” he says in a soft voice, the grogginess of his morning voice making you gulp.
“Hi,” you sweetly respond, “Sorry for waking you. You can go back to sleep. It’s Sunday,” you say folding the comforter away from you to sneak out of bed.
Jungkook protests with a hum, “I want you to stay with me,” he mumbles.
“You don’t want breakfast?”
“Can’t sleep without you,” he responds, his chest rising slightly, which makes you pout.
“Alright.”
Peace. Serenity. Serendipity. Everything you’ve ever wanted. You’re so in love.
-
Later that day, you get an email from the company, which is surprising since it’s Sunday, but essentially, the email states that your department will be transferring to the new HYBE facility. You flip your phone to show Jungkook the screen, who is sitting across the table stuffing his face with noodles with a Snorlax headband in his hair.
On cue, Jungkook’s phone dings, and he pulls out his phone.
“Oh shit,” he says aloud, “Same.”
You’re a bit taken aback, “Are you serious?” you ask, scrambling to your feet before racing around the dining room to glimpse at Jungkook’s phone.
Dear Jungkook,
We're pleased to inform you that your department facilities are relocating to a new, improved location. This move is part of our ongoing commitment to efficiency and employee satisfaction…
You exchange glances with him, blinking at him momentarily before you speak.
“You’re going to get sick of me if you have to see me everyday,” you deadpan, prompting him to theatrically roll his eyes.
“You do analytics, I do software development. We’re not even going to be on the same floor,” he declares matter-a-factly, “You’ll probably be with… the marketing girls or something.”
“Oh really?” you muse, raising your brows, “You don’t want to see me at work? You’d rather be with those ‘marketing girls’?”
Jungkook purses his lips, staring at you unimpressed, before a smile spreads across his lips.
“If I see you at work,” he whispers, fingertips dancing along your thigh before his palms grasp the backs of your thighs, pulling you towards him, “I won’t be able to focus. I’d be too distracted keeping my eyes on the pretty girl from the Analytics department.”
You blush slightly, “Oh- oh, shut up.”
“What? It’s the truth. Either you or I have to quit, and it won’t be me. I have seniority over you.”
You know he’s joking, but the notion makes you scowl. You step out of his grasp, “That’s not funny,” you mutter, crossing your arms.
He shrugs, “I could really turn into the sugar daddy you’ve always dreamed about.”
“Don’t undermine me because I don’t have as much experience as you do,” you direct, to which Jungkook theatrically drops his jaw, rising to his feet.
You look him right in the eye, maintaining your glare as he starts to tower over you. “Oh c’mon baby, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” he comforts.
You shake your head, rolling your eyes, “Asshole,” you spit, stomping away from him, to which Jungkook follows.
“Seriously? I was joking!” he reasons, following you to your room. You walk into the bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it before he can trail in your stead. At that, Jungkook scoffs, not believing that you were taking it this seriously.
He knocks on the door. “Y/N,” he calls, dragging out your name.
You don’t say anything, and he squeezes his eyes in defeat when he hears the sound of the shower starting, opting to slip into your bed whilst waiting for you to return. He sighs, running his hands over his face.
To be honest, Jungkook is a little triggered. He hates the whole silent treatment thing more than anything else. Last year, you ignored him for four months straight and it nearly killed him on the inside.
Minutes later, you emerge from the shower, one towel wrapped around your body and the other wrapped around your hair. You cross your arms, staring at him. The towel wrapped around your frame is loose, threatening to fall beneath the nipple.
Jungkook sighs, standing up and sauntering over. Your eyes are glossy, not from the water from the shower, and the tip of your nose is a cute shade of pink. Your features are twisted up into petulance, your lips displaying a subtle pout.
Seeing you in distress pains him too.
His gentle and careful fingers pull the towel above your breast. He knows you feel vulnerable and he doesn’t want you to inadvertently expose yourself and contribute to that vulnerability, his left hand rubbing your nape up and down gently. “What’s wrong, baby? Hm?” he inquires sweetly, bending over to draw your lips in for a honeyed kiss.
“I just–” you start, unable to meet his eyes as you crane your head the other way. Jungkook gently cradles your jaw, directing your focus back to him. Looking into his eyes, you choke up. “I just– I know you weren’t being serious, but I just feel belittled, like is my work so unserious that one day I’ll just end up being a trad wife or stay at home mom?”
Jungkook feels awful. He was already aware that you had some sort of inferiority complex when it came to him, and knowing that he fed into it makes him regret everything he’s ever said.
Jungkook opens and closes his mouth immediately, looking for the right words. He places both palms on your shoulders, “Shit. I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean it that way at all,” he expresses, “I was just– I was just being a dick,” he says, pulling you in for a hug. “I don’t think of you that way at all,” he continues, “I mean– look at you. You’re 21 and you’re rich, you’ve got a good job. You’re up there with all these old people,” he jokes, eliciting a sweet giggle from your lips.
“I only said it because I love you and I like the thought of taking care of you,” he says, to which you squirm.
You squirm in place, looking the other way, “So are you mad at me? For ignoring you?” you sweetly beckon, and Jungkook draws your lips for another sweet kiss.
“No, baby. I’m thankful you said something, though,” he offers, continually rubbing your nape up and down.
“I can take care of you too,” you declare, “Remember? We’re equals now,” you express, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.
That night, Jungkook helps you change into your clothes, dries your hair, and rubs your skincare into your face. So delicate. So sweet
There’s something so wonderful about having someone you can confide in, communicate with, and love. Jungkook never judges you; all you have to do is explain how you feel and he’ll indulge you completely.
-
That doesn’t mean however, that Jungkook can’t be selfish, immature, or childish.
The night he confessed to you, he told you that he could be all those things, and to be honest, you’ve never really seen it directed towards you.
When he was a teenager, you saw him get mad at his parents when he was caught smoking for the first time. You were a kid, but you thought that was pretty childish.
Beyond that, Jungkook has always been chill, more laid back, and normal.
Not tonight, though.
“That was childish,” you deadpan from the passenger seat of his car.
Jungkook reaches over to place his palm on your thigh, to which you swat it away and lean as far as you can into the window.
Jungkook scoffs, “You’re calling me childish? Out of all people, you’re calling me childish?”
You cross your arms. “I am,” you respond, your voice firm and resolute.
You both were on your way back from the company party celebrating the merger. The company went all out, hosting the party at a luxury hotel, illuminating the hotel’s grand ballroom with twinkling chandeliers and neon signs displaying the company’s name.
You arrive as a pair, nothing too conspicuous for the sake of professionalism. You’re wearing a long sleeved dress, with Jungkook in a casual black button up and gray slacks.
You quickly separated to meet with your respective departments, and when you happened to pass by Jungkook’s department, he went out of his way to greet your coworkers, introducing himself to your department like he’s never seen you before in his life.
The other men in Jungkook’s department are quite put together. They seem like the type of people Jungkook would work with: young, objectively attractive, tech-nerds. You greet all of them with the same enthusiasm Jungkook greeted your department, knowing that they may be potential wedding guests.
At the moment, you aren’t quite able to recall their names but he works with six other guys. They didn’t really leave a lasting impression; they were kind, sweet, and polite, nothing out of the ordinary.
Notably, it was Mary– your kind, sweet, amazing 50-year old coworker and work bestie, who brought her son to the party. That was not something you were expecting, mostly because Mary always teased you about becoming her son-in-law, and you always entertained the notion, not expecting that you��d meet the man in person.
Mary’s son is in his early 30’s, and he is… nice.
He’s nice, he really is. He’s an intelligent, hard-working man. He takes care of his sweet mother, and for that, he is admirable, but you think there was some miscommunication there, because he is definitely under the impression that you are interested in him in some way, shape, or form, and you feel horrible about it, because you don’t think Mary knows you were playing around.
Mary's son leaned in with a charming smile. "So, what do you like to do outside of work?" he inquires, his gaze lingering on you with a subtle hint of interest.
You hesitate for a moment, "Oh, you know, the usual. I enjoy reading and hiking when I have the time," you reply cautiously.
Mary's son nods, his smile widening slightly. "Sounds like we have some common interests. Maybe we could do something together sometime.”
Your heart sinks at the implication of his words, but before you can respond, your big, hot, sexy boyfriend intervenes. Jungkook had his eye on you the entire night– nothing too conspicuous, but he made sure you were always within his field of peripheral vision.
Jungkook steps in, a champagne glass in hand. He playfully nudges Mary’s son and you squeeze your eyes shut, dreading what’s yet to come.
“Must be quite the occasion for you to be hitting on your mom’s coworkers,” he cuts in making you run your hands over your face, “Let me put you on to something else,” he continues, “I mean, you’re a handsome guy, and I know that there’s someone else more suitable for you than a 21 year old, alright bud?” he continues, throwing a casual arm around Mary’s son as he leads him elsewhere.
Okay, it wasn’t that bad.
But it was embarrassing.
Jungkook seemed polite, but his language was more than passive aggressive, and anyone who caught heed to the conversation tangibly felt it.
“I was literally being nice!” Jungkook rationalizes, his fingers tapping against the driver’s wheel, prompting you to huff in frustration.
“You should have let me handle it,” you respond, “I was going to turn him down. Next time, don’t do all that, alright?”
“You were not going to handle it,” he retorts, “You were mumbling– baby, you were blushing– definitely entertaining it,” he adds.
You shake your head, “That was my coworker’s son! If it was any other guy I would’ve told him to fuck off, but I had to be polite.”
“Yea, well, and if it was any other guy, I would’ve beaten the shit out of him so what’s your point?”
“Oh my gosh,” you express, face palming.
“C’mon baby, he was being totally predatory for hitting on his mom’s coworker,” Jungkook argues, “I didn’t even say anything that bad. Had a nice conversation with the guy.”
“It was childish, Jungkook,” you counter, “The fly on the wall could sense your passive aggression.”
“I’m such a big bad wolf for saving my girlfriend from a situation she was uncomfortable in. Aww,” he mocks a pout, dragging his pointer finger across his face to mimic a tear.
At that, you can’t help but scoff out laughter. “You’re so stupid,” you muse.
-
That situation was merely the tip of the iceberg.
You weren’t that angry; Mary’s son was out of line and it’s not like Jungkook said anything too egregious, but it’s the next day that Jungkook really shows you how immature you can be.
The following Monday is yours and Jungkook’s first day of work.
Jungkook is so in love, loves seeing you in a new light. It’s like there’s hearts in your eyes when you “coincidentally” run into each other in the second story printing room, finding the way you work when you’re in professional mode so sexy.
It’s like he has hearts in his eyes while he leans against the company’s wall, hands in his pockets while his eyes follow you from across the office, loving the way you simply walk around with a stack of paper in your hands.
That is, until the CEO of the fucking company starts hitting on you. That’s when his smile drops, and he removes his hands from the pockets. He instinctively steps forward to intervene yet again, until he remembers that this is actually work and that he can get both of you fired by doing anything too crazy.
“Quit your job,” Jungkook instructs the moment you get back to his place, causing you to almost drop your work bag onto the floor.
Maybe you didn’t hear him properly, “What’d you say?” you ask, taking off your shoes and joining him in the kitchen.
“Quit your job. I’ll help you find another one,” Jungkook suggests, rummaging through the fridge, as if it isn’t the most ridiculous idea you’ve heard in your life.
“I’m sorry babe. Can you repeat that one more time?”
“Quit your job, Y/N,” Jungkook finishes, slamming the fridge a little too hard. He’s clearly miffed. He’s doing that thing where he tongues the inside of his cheek. His eyebrows are in an angry V, and his chest is heaving up and down— and honestly, the fact that he’s angry calms you a little bit.
He’s just speaking from emotion, and now you need to be the voice of reason.
You force a smile, sneaking around to hug him from behind, resting your cheek against his mid-back.
“And why do you say that, honey? Hm?”
He swivels around, placing his palms on your shoulders. “Y/N, this isn’t funny. The CEO was being creepy as fuck. Turn in your resignation tomorrow, and I’ll start looking for another one. I’ll pay your bills until we can find you another job,” he states.
“C’mon babe,” you start, “the CEO was not being creepy. I’m the youngest at the company. He was just being nice.”
At that, Jungkook’s features scrunch in confusion, detecting any hint of sarcasm on your face. “You really think that?”
“I do.”
Jungkook sighs, “Y/N, rate yourself on a scale from 1-10, on societal standards of beauty. 10 being– like Anok Yai. Where do you stand? Be honest?”
The question is absurd, but you entertain it, putting your fingers on your chin while you genuinely contemplate the assertion.
“Maybe a 6?-”
“Okay, well, you’re an 11, and every guy feels that way. You don’t know how pretty you are and that’s my fault. I should tell you more, but baby– that’s how pretty you are. The CEO was hitting on you and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, so quit your job.”
You stand there, processing his words, and while the sentiment is somewhat touching, you can’t lie and say that you aren’t the least bit upset, especially because you had this conversation about your work a few days ago.
“No,” is all you say.
“No?” Jungkook challenges.
“No,” you confirm, “I’m not going to quit my job. The CEO hasn’t done anything,” you reason, gesturing with your hands, “If he gets out of line, we can consider reporting him, but I’m not going to quit my job.”
“Okay, fair,” Jungkook says putting his hands up, and you smile, thinking that this conversation is over until he continues.
“But why would you wait for something bad to happen? Isn’t that totally absurd? I don’t want to wait for it to happen. Let’s play it safe.”
You sigh, “I see what you’re saying, I really do. But I don’t think anything is going to happen. I think you’re overreacting…”
Jungkook pauses, tonguing the inside of his cheek before a sly smile dances across his lips. “Overreacting, huh?”
“Um, yea,” you confirm, “Why would I quit my job? I’d lose all my connections. I mean– this is the only real employment I’ve had. Besides internships, I’d have nothing to put on my resume.”
Jungkook nods, understanding.
What he really wants to say is “Babe, just quit your job and I’ll make all the money. You’ll never have to work a day in your life and then we’ll retire early and travel the world together with our kids and-”
But that’s totally patronizing, but hey, he can’t help himself if he feels that way.
“So what do we do, babe? The CEO is in a position of power. I just don’t want you to be taken advantage of,” Jungkook expresses, his eye twitching.
What he really wants to say is “I literally saw the CEO’s dick getting hard while he talked to you and if I could, I’d shoot his entire office up-”
But of course, he would never utter the sentiment aloud.
“If it gets to that, we could report him for sexual harassment,” you ponder.
Jungkook nods in agreement, but you and he both understand the implications of reporting your CEO for something like that. Women always get the short end of the stick. People would probably accuse you of lying, the CEO would leverage his resources to legally ruin you, and you both could lose your job security.
Jungkook doesn’t want to even let it get to that point, and he’s trying his best to respect your autonomy, but it bothers him, it really does.
He inhales deeply, finding peace in the way your fingertips dance under his skirt, caressing his abs before you pull him in for a hug. “Nothing is going to happen, baby,” you comfort, “Everything will be alright, I promise.”
-
Indeed, everything is not alright, because the CEO repeatedly calls you into his office for some inconspicuous reasons, and you’re suddenly starting to understand where Jungkook is coming from.
Your only solace is that Jungkook is around the corner. Today, he’s wearing a suit and tie, his wire-framed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks exceptionally sexy today, his long legs accentuated by his suit and his hair swept back to show his sexy forehead.
You put your phone down, looking up right when the elevator doors open to reveal a handsome, suit-clad Jungkook.
“Hello Mr. Jeon,” you express, a smile dancing on your lips when you bow to him and saunter into the elevator.
“Hello Ms. L/N,” Jungkook responds matter-a-factly, pushing up his glasses on his nose, “Strange running you into here.”
You bite back a giggle, “Yea, that is indeed strange. How is work for you, sir?”
“Oh work’s alright. The team is-”
And just like that your lips are on his, and he’s devouring you completely. Your legs wrap around his waist as he hoists you up, pressing you against the elevator doors as he sloppily and messily kisses you. Tongue in your mouth, teeth clashing, his groin grinds against the area between your thighs, inducing you to moan into his mouth while Jungkook continues licking into you and–
Ding! The elevator dings and you and Jungkook instantly scramble apart, resulting in you running to the other side of the elevator, smoothing out your skirt while you catch your breath. You cough, hand coming at ease in front of you while you stare at the floor. Jungkook behaves similarly, pushing up his glasses while he clears his throat and straightens his tie.
A second later, the elevator doors open, and more office workers pool in. You and Jungkook greet them politely, feigning innocence and ignorance.
The next day, something similar transpires.
You��re wearing a long, red skirt, a white blouse, and you have a white ribbon in your hair. You love work because it grants you opportunities to put together cute, modest outfits, and apparently, Jungkook likes it too, because you always catch him looking.
He checks you out quite noticeably, his eyes shamelessly scanning up and down your frame as he bites his lips. Your cheeks flush, and you take a moment before you sheepishly step into the elevator.
“H-hello, Mr. Jeon,” you greet.
“Hi Ms. Y/N. How are negotiations with your new client going?” he asks, adjusting his tie.
“They’re going great, sir-”
And like that, he closes the distance, cradling your jaw before leaning in for a kiss. His hands salaciously trail down to your behind, giving it a light squeeze, causing you to gasp in his mouth. He takes that as an opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan as your tongues rub against each other and-
Ding!
Once again, you scramble apart, separating towards each end of the elevator, recomposing yourselves while more people pool in.
Not a soul would know what really transpires in the elevator everyday at 3:00 PM.
-
Unless there were cameras in the elevator.
Which there were.
Which is crazy because of course there are cameras in the elevator, and quite honestly, you and Jungkook were probably aware of that in the back of your minds, but who cares? Making out with him everyday in the elevator at 3:00 PM is hot and it’s what gets you through the work day (until 3 PM)
You and Jungkook get Cc'd the same email from HR.
Dear Employees,
I hope this email finds you well. We need to discuss an incident observed via security cameras in the elevator involving two employees engaging in intimate behavior. This is a violation of company policies on workplace conduct. Please attend a meeting with HR to address this matter.
Oh shit.
You and Jungkook wait outside the conference room to talk to the HR. You blink at each other, and honestly you want to burst into giggles, but the conference room is made of glass and you aren’t really sure who’s watching.
The HR Manager, a tall lanky man, steps from the office and invites you in.
The meeting isn’t awkward at all— in fact, it’s more straight to the point. Essentially, the HR manager says something along the lines of “You’re free to date in the office, but no PDA. We don’t encourage dating because we want our employees to focus on work. I know you guys are amongst the youngest in the office, so if you want to do–erm— that, then you can go somewhere else during lunch.”
Both you and Jungkook profusely apologize, promise it won’t happen again, and then are off on your ways.
Funnily enough, the CEO stopped approaching you and calling you to his office so yea, neither of you quit your jobs, and Jungkook was overreacting, a little bit.
-
Now, the real question remains.
How do your friends feel about your relationship with Jungkook?
They want to see you happy, always, so that aspect brings them joy, but it’s important to address how things change.
Before, Jungkook was the unattainable, hotter, older man that all your friends told you to get a grip over because there was just no way he’d ever reciprocate your feelings. But now, things are different.
If Jungkook is your boyfriend, that means he’s your equal… so if your friends are your equal, does that mean Jungkook is equal to your friends? It’s just the transitive property of equality. If a = b, and b = c, then a =c.
But that’s weird.
You know you shouldn’t be making a big deal of it, but your friends are like little piggies and Jungkook is the wolf. There’s no way all of you could hang out at the same time without it being weird, because every time Jungkook has interacted with your friends in the past, it’s always been in a big brotherly way, not a friend way.
On top of that, Jungkook has never officially met Heeseung or Sunghoon, and he is very much aware that Sunghoon was interested (and potentially still could be) in you, which is probably why you all are sitting around the sushi table in awkward silence.
Soobin is hyperfocused on his the wrapper of his chopsticks, Beomgyu is repeatedly dipping his chopsticks into the Miso soup to lick at, Yunjin already excused herself to the restroom, and Heeseung is just staring at Jungkook in awe, which is understandable, because your boyfriend looks exceptionally handsome today.
Yeonjun is probably the only one who can carry the conversation, mostly because he’s the most closely acquainted with Jungkook and his family.
You elbow Yeonjun softly and he clears his throat, “So, um– Jungkook. Does your family still think Y/N and I are together? Or have you already told them that you’re dating?”
Soobin finally says something, “Wait, why would Jungkook’s family think that you and Y/N are dating?”
“Just because I brought him to a couple family events, and they got the wrong idea,” you respond, delicately tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“We haven’t let them know yet,” Jungkook answers, stretching out his upper body, “I don’t think that conversation will go over smoothly because of the… age difference.”
Yeonjun nods, understanding, “Yea, and your little cousin might be upset about it too,” he adds.
“Oh yea,” Jungkook smiles, addressing the table, “My little cousin is six years old and he’s got the biggest crush on Y/N. He probably won’t talk to me for a year once he finds out,” Jungkook says with a light laugh.
Oh my gosh. This is so awkward. You inwardly cringe, but leave it to Beomgyu to ease the atmosphere.
“It’s alright,” Beomgyu adds, “If you didn’t want her, Y/N would have just waited for your cousin to grow up cause at least the cousin likes her-”
You reach over the table to swat at his bicep.
At that moment, the side dishes arrive: perilla leaves, radish kimchi, steamed egg, pickled cucumbers, and spicy bean sprouts.
Thank goodness the food is here, you think, even if it’s just side dishes. Yunjin returns from the restroom, seemingly renewed as she takes the space between you and Yeonjun, and she starts talking.
“You know, Jungkook,” she starts, “Y/N really loves you. I, for one, am happy that you’re together. She’s been non-stop talking about you since high school. She showed up at my house crying when she heard you were bringing your girlfriend to Thanksgiving-”
You nudge Yunjin, a nonverbal cue to tell her to shut up.
Jungkook awkwardly laughs, “Yea, I know Y/N had a crush on me when she was younger but I didn’t realize until a couple years ago… Anyways, Y/N’s not the same person she was when she was a high schooler. I fell in love with her after she turned 19, of course.”
“But isn’t that still a problem?” Sunghoon challenges, and your face almost drops.
You know where this is going.
“You knew her since she was a little kid, so isn’t it kinda weird for you to date her?” he asks. The question is innocent, and it’s a valid question, but you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation of Jungkook’s answer.
“Some would say that,” Jungkook responds, “But our relationship isn’t about who she was. It doesn’t matter to me that she had a crush on me when she was younger, it’s about who she is now, and I love her as she is,” he finishes with a smile.
Sunghoon nods, “That makes sense,” he shrugs. At that moment, you use your chopsticks to pick up the perilla leaves, which are, of course, stuck together. Sunghoon casually reaches out with his chopsticks, separating the leaves and plopping one into his mouth.
You freeze, and you do what you should, placing the perilla leaf over Jungkook’s bowl of rice, and he almost immediately uses his spoon to swallow the perilla leave along with a spoonful of rice.
No one seems to notice, and the conversation continues.
“So what’s it like working with your girlfriend?” Heeseung asks casually, and the conversation continues, taking an upward trajectory, the atmosphere finally settling down.
-
“He still likes you, Y/N,” Jungkook says matter-a-factly, hanging up his coat in his closet while you take off your shoes by the front door.
You tilt your head, genuinely confused, “Who?”
“Sunghoon.”
You shake your head, dismissing the notion, “No, that was in the past. I heard he has a girlfriend now.”
You join Jungkook in his bedroom and he’s staring at you incredulously. “Are you serious?” Jungkook asks, causing you to scoff, “Of course I am!” you retaliate, “He’s over me. I turned him down straight up; I didn’t even entertain his feelings for me. I told him I was in love with you, remember?”
Jungkook's expression softens, and he takes a seat on his bed, “I know baby, but I’m just saying that he still likes you. Remember what I said?-”
“About me being an 11?” you question, amused, “Yea, nobody thinks that except for you,” you confirm with a nod, taking a seat on his lap when he opens his arms for you.
Jungkook shakes his head, “I’m not saying it’s anything bad, and I’m not saying I don’t trust you, but I just want you to know that he still likes you. He even tried to give you an indirect kiss,” he says, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.
You raise a brow at him, giggling at the tickling sensation of his lips ghosting across the sensitive areas of your neck, “An indirect kiss?”
“Yes,” Jungkook confirms, “An indirect kiss– the perilla leaf?”
You shake your head. You immediately recall a stupid conversation Jungkook had with his friends. “They peel off one perilla leaf, next thing you know, they’re holding hands, and fall in love, and they end up getting married!” is what he said, causing his friends to roll their eyes.
You place a chaste kiss on his lips, “You’re stupid,” you giggle.
He looks at you knowingly. Jungkook isn’t per se, worried about you and Sunghoon. He knows Sunghoon’s a respectful enough kid to not make a move, and he trusts you with his entire heart, soul, and being. He just wants you to know that Sunghoon most likely still harbors something for you.
Of course he would. Like Jungkook said, you’re an 11.
-
The delicacy of his feelings for you seeps into everything he does, especially when you’re sick.
Nestled with your head cradled in the curve of his arm, he gently massages your temples with his right hand, ensuring the damp cloth on your forehead remains refreshingly cool, soothing your feverish brow.
You're drifting into slumber, your eyes half-closed as you softly shift against his embrace. With him around, with his fingers assuaging the ache in your temples, you finally feel safe enough, protected enough to lose yourself in your own vulnerability and drift into dreamland.
Later that day, you wake up with Jungkook right by your side. His eyes are on the TV and when he hears your soft mumbles, he welcomes you back to Earth.
“Kiss me please,” comes out in a soft whimper. You’re barely coherent and you’re asking for a kiss? That’s the cutest fucking thing on the history of the Earth, and Jungkook’s heart clenches. You’re so sweet, so precious, and he’ll gladly oblige.
He pulls you onto him so you’re lying directly onto him, your boobs pressed against his chest and your stomach pressed against his.
He kisses you sweetly, indulging you completely while your tongues intertwine, and he sighs into your mouth blissfully.
At that moment, you hear the sound of a thud hitting the floor. You and Jungkook whip your heads towards the sound– it’s his parents.
“J-Jeon Jungkook! What do you think you’re doing?!” his mother shrieks.
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#jungkook fanfic#jungkook scenarios#bts scenarios#jungkook fluff#jungkook texts#jungkook imagines#jungkook x reader#jk fanfic#bts fanfic
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Evidence ✂️ (Tim Rockford One-shot)
Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader
Summary: Tim knows a lot about vasectomies
Word count: ~1.8k
Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)
Content Warnings: Vasectomy kink (aka the opposite of breeding kink), unprotected PIV, vague detective work (don’t worry about it), destruction of important documents?
A/N: It has been a while since I wrote one of these! Big thanks to @veryprairieberry for sparking the idea and for patience while I pondered it for a very long time. Also, thanks to @burntheedges for the beta and assuring me I was not crazy lol. All my vasectomy kinks are marked with “✂️” and linked on my new Vasectomy Kink Masterlist!
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
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Main Masterlist
Taglist – link in my bio or ask me to add you!
“Think,” Tim admonishes himself, staring at the board filled with crime scene photographs and bits of evidence. “What are we missing?”
“We’ve been staring at it for days.” You pull at your neck, trying to relieve the tension, a habit you likely picked up from your partner. Sharing an office with someone will do that. You sigh and sit down at your desk, leafing through pages of witness testimony you’ve gone over a hundred times already. “Maybe we should call it a night. Look again in the morning?”
A knock at the door interrupts you. “Excuse me, detectives, the medical records you requested arrived. Thought I’d drop them off on my way out.” A lackey from the records office holds out a manilla envelope in Tim’s direction.
“Thanks,” Tim stands up from the chair he had been straddling and takes the envelope. He pulls out the stack of papers and begins to scan them one by one.
“I don’t know what you expect to find in there.” Your frustration over this case has made you pessimistic.
“You never know,” Tim mumbles under his breath as he continues reading page after page. You go back to your testimony, looking for anything you could have missed. Apparently, you’re not done for the evening.
“Got it!” Tim exclaims making his way over to you and dropping the stack of papers on top of your desk with a thud.
You read the top page. “He had a vasectomy?”
“He had a vasectomy,” Tim repeats back to you. “Five years ago. He isn’t the father.”
“You don’t know that. Vasectomies fail.” It’s compelling, but not the slam dunk Tim seems to think.
“No, they don’t, not if…” He shuffles through the papers some more. “There,” he points to a test result a few pages later, “he gave a follow up sample and no sperm was detected. The chance of a vasectomy failing after that point is basically zero. Men just say that to get out of having it done.”
“How do you know so much about vasectomies?”
“Well, I had one.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, long time ago,” he says distractedly as he makes his way back to the board of evidence, rearranging things in light of this new discovery. He picks up his mug of, what has to be by now, very cold coffee and takes a sip.
You, on the other hand, are frozen at your desk. Tim had a vasectomy? Tim is shooting blanks?
This information is eliciting a strong reaction in your body.
It’s swooping through your gut.
It’s making your palms sweat and your skin prickle.
It’s…
Rage.
Burning rage floods your system, heating your skin and making your heart pound.
“You had a vasectomy?” you ask him again, trying to keep your tone even.
“Yeah, are you… angry?” Tim turns to face you, looking confused. Maybe your voice wasn’t as neutral as you hoped.
“I’ll be asking the questions, Detective Rockford.” You push back from your desk and stand up slowly. You take a deep breath in and exhale through your nose, keeping your voice deadly calm, as if you’re interrogating a suspect. His forehead creases in confusion, but he waits for you to speak. “When did you have it done?”
“Twelve years ago now, I guess.”
“Why?”
“I decided kids weren’t something I was interested in, seemed like the right thing to do.”
“I see,” you pace across the room, tapping your finger to your lips, rage still simmering below the surface of your skin.
His eyes follow you as you go.
“You made this decision on your own?”
“Well, yeah. I wasn’t in a relationship at the time. I don’t und….” You hold up a finger to silence him mid-sentence.
“You found the doctor, scheduled it, all of that?”
“Of course.”
“So, you are telling me…” You turn to face him as he takes another sip of his coffee, “that I could have had you bare these past six months?”
Tim chokes.
When he finally stops coughing, he wipes his hand across his mouth. “Is that why you’re upset?”
“Yes! We’ve been using condoms when we didn’t need to!”
“There are other reasons to wear a condom.”
“Do I need to be worried about any of those reasons with you?”
“Well, no.”
“You don’t need to be worried about them with me either.”
“I never thought I did.”
“You’re so fucking responsible.” The words come out angry, but there’s a new heat growing in your core. Responsibility is fucking hot.
“I’m… sorry?” Tim apologizes as you make your way to the office door and lock it.
“You should be sorry.” You stalk towards him until you’re close enough to grab him by the holsters. You watch as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. You pull yourself flush with his front, noting the bulge pressing against your thigh.
“How can I make it up to you?” he rasps.
“Fuck me on your desk, Detective. Bare.”
“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re angry,” he growls, pulling you into a searing kiss. His tongue invades your mouth as you both scramble with belts, buttons, and clasps. You’ve come to love the taste of bitter coffee and Chinese takeout on Tim’s tongue. Tastes you will forever associate with him as it’s never been very long since he’s had either.
Your clothes come off quickly in between frantic kisses, but you stop him as he moves to remove his shirt and holsters. “Don’t… I need something to hold on to.”
“Fuck, baby, when you say things like that…” his fingers dig into your bare hips as you set your ass at the edge of the desk and lean back on your elbows, opening yourself up for him with a smirk.
Tim’s cock bobs eagerly in front of you, framed by his open shirt. He takes it in his hand, stroking slowly up and down the thick length.
Pages of documents crinkle underneath you, but you can’t care. Right now, all that matters is the beautiful man looking down at you with lust blown eyes.
“I want your cock, Tim. Now.”
He steps into the space between your open legs, cock in hand, and guides the tip through your wet pussy. You both groan as he nudges at your clit and drags back through your folds.
“So wet,” he whispers, reverently. He repeats his path several times, coating his cock in your slick before notching the head at your entrance. “You sure you don’t want my fingers first?”
You vehemently shake your head and bite your lip as you look down between your legs. He nudges at your entrance gently and you whimper.
“I know baby, I know,” he soothes you, and probably himself, from how completely wrecked he looks – slack jawed and panting. With a guttural groan, he breaches your entrance.
You both watch as his bare length disappears into your wet heat.
“Oh god, fuck,” your eyes roll back in your head as he enters you slowly, stretching your sensitive pussy around his cock, working his way in inch by inch. You feel the thick ridge of his head drag along your walls as your body gives way. Without any barrier between you, the sensation is divine.
“Fuck, baby,” Tim breathes as he bottoms out inside you. “I need a second. You feel so good.” He closes his eyes, overcome with the feeling of you. His hands flex against your bare thighs as he takes deep, centering breaths.
After a few moments, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze with yours and, slowly, starts to move.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine with each slow thrust and drag of his cock. Sex with Tim has been good, great even, but this… this is heaven. You glance down to watch his clock slide in and out of you. The sight of him veiny and glistening is almost too much to bear. Your pussy begins to flutter.
Tim leans over you, pressing your knees into your chest. “Fuck, you’re amazing. So wet and hot and tight. It’s been…. oh god… so long…”
The new angle hits just right and you can feel your orgasm building.
“Yes, just like that,” you throw your head back. “Fuck, your cock feels good.”
Tim licks his thumb and finds your clit between your bodies, speeding up your impending release.
“Are you going to come on my cock, baby?”
“Oh god, yes, please,” you beg, feeling the telltale pressure deep in your core.
“You have to be quiet for me,” he rumbles under his breath. You’re not new to sneaking around at work, but until now you had saved the fucking for outside the office. “Look at us,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.
You look down and gasp at the sight of his thick cock entering your pussy. The last of your control snaps and you’re pulsing around him as you try not to scream his name and announce your relationship to the entire precinct.
When you come back to yourself, Tim is still slowly dragging himself through your sensitive walls, nostrils flared, clearly fighting to delay his own release.
Aftershocks zing through your body and you clench around him.
He hisses and pauses, “Baby, if you squeeze me like that, I’m going to come.”
You smile to yourself as he picks up his rhythm again, then squeeze as he pulls most of the way out.
He gasps and pulls out the rest of the way, pressing a kiss to your knee and laughing, “You have to stop that.”
“What if I don’t want to stop that?” You reach between your legs with one arm and grab his holster, pulling him to you for a sloppy kiss. “I want you to come. Fill me up, Detective.”
Tim practically growls as he lines himself back up with your entrance and slides in fast and deep. You bring your other hand up to grab the holster on the other side, balancing on your ass and holding on for dear life as he thrusts into you. His strong arms cage you in and support you as he pants into your neck.
“You feel so good, what was I thinking not fucking you bare this whole time? Oh god… oh fuck…” he stutters as he empties himself inside you.
You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, nuzzling into his neck and his scruff as he catches his breath.
“Who would have thought… responsible Detective Rockford fucking in his office.”
Tim chuckles into your shoulder. “Can’t be responsible all the time.”
You smile and pull his lips to yours for a soft kiss. “Let’s get out of here.” You peel your ass off the papers on the desk and turn to survey the crinkled mess you’ve left behind. “That’s going to be a problem.”
Tim wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your shoulder, “Eh, I’ll just spill some coffee on it, no one will know the difference.”
You laugh, “Tim Rockford, you are just full of surprises.”
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Vasectomy Kink Masterlist
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Hi! Since you saw Ewan at CCXF and outside of it, I wanna ask if you think Ewan loves fan saying hi to him or he only did it to be polite? Also is there anything else you can share about your meeting with Ewan?
I’ve also seen some people on here saying that they think Ewan looked uncomfortable at times at CCXF. Whats your thoughts on that?
Hi, nonnie!
About your last question, I couldn’t see anything because I was behind them so all I could see was their back lol. Also the audio wasn’t great and with all the screaming I couldn’t hear anything. I thought everything was going well because all their managers and their team were behind them and they were smiling. I already saw the interview on YouTube and I think the whole thing was messy and cringe, the questions weren’t that interesting, that guy saying Mexican women would love to keep him in their homes… So as a whole, that was a mess. Minutes later I saw him in the thunder stage and he was relaxed, so I don’t think there was a problem after that. What I think is that he is way more calm when you are talking alone with him and that’s the real Ewan. He does an incredible job on stage, but we shouldn’t get fool, he has a reserved personality.
About the rest of your ask, have in mind that I’m again talking based on what I experienced, I would say he truly loves saying hi to the fans. We have to consider that we are talking about the same guy that takes the time to send little messages to his fans when he receives fan mail.
The first time I saw him I was working and he was doing press, so the two times I talked with him were brief and it was just a kinda random talk lol it was when he told me he needed a hat for the sun. That day I mostly saw him work while I was doing my own.
The second time I met him he recognized me and smiled to me, so I said hi and it was when he made room for me to sit down at his side. We talked for a few minutes (although I felt it was for hours lol) about how different book!Aemond is to the show version and I told him I loved what he and Leo did with the character and they were the reason Aemond was my favorite character cuz when I read the book he wasn’t my fav. He simply smiled and thanked me for what I was saying. I told him I had a fanart and that it would mean the world to me if he could signed it and he took the time to admired it before doing it and see the details.
But I think what I will treasure the most (apart from having one of my Aemond designs autographed) will be when I gave him the dragon egg I made for him. I explained to him that I’m a dragon fan since I was little and that back during got s1 I couldn’t find the dragon eggs to buy them, so I made them. While I was saying all of that he was attentively looking at me and listening, so when I started to taking the egg out of my purse he started to realize what I was gonna give him and had a huge smile when he saw the little green egg and simply excitedly exclaimed “Vhagar!”. I swear he looked like a little kid with a toy, he took it and started to see all the details, asked me how long it took me and then he told me “You’re a legend!” and hugged me. I swear to god I wasn’t expecting it and almost died in that moment. His manager asked me if I wanted a picture and he quickly said yes because he wanted to show the egg, so she kindly took it, we talked for a few more minutes and then he asked me if I was going to be at ccxp, I said yes and he told me he hoped to see me there and then we said goodbye. And that was it. 🥹
I swear to god he is everything the rest of the cast have said he is: the loveliest person ever, a complete angel, super gentle, incredible thoughtful, kind, a fantastic human being… and I have just quoted Elliot Grihault, Harry Collet, Tom Glynn Carney and Fabien Frankel only.
So tl;dr, if you ask me, no, he didn’t do it just to be polite, he truly cares and enjoys saying hi to his fans. He truly listen to what we say and takes him time with us. What it is import here is to ALWAYS respect him, his privacy, his boundaries and not be invasive. He is open to meet us, make sure we aren’t nervous, listen to what we wanna say, tell us that everything’s ok… but let’s not forget that at the end, he is also a human being as any of us and he does has a reserved personality.
PS. BTW, I just wanna add something else. When I was literally admiring my design with his autograph and saying it would have a pretty frame, both, his manager and him, said “aaw” lol 🥹
Here is my design:
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hello friends, i feel it necessary to update y’all on my condition and to explain my general absence.
over this past week and some change, i have been having a severe mental health crisis. i won’t go into details too heavily, but i’m still a little “in it”, though it has calmed down pretty significantly. to explain the severity, i was at a 12 out of 10, and now i’m at a 7 and occasionally a 6, if that makes sense. i am still debating going inpatient for the time being, just to get my meds figured out, but my mental and physical health teams are still kind of divided on the matter.
however, i feel it necessary to say, i am and have not been a danger to myself during this crisis. i had just been having a significant and precipitous physical and mental decline that was mostly anxiety and panic related, but i believe i am now on the mend, albeit going slow. medication is still an ongoing issue but hopefully within the next few days, my team and i can get that resolved and squared away.
i have received some kind messages asking if i am okay and sending well wishes, and i appreciate you all so incredibly much. you have made this more bearable for me, and i am endlessly thankful for all of you.
that said, i’m not sure when consistent posting will resume. i feel like i could begin working on requests again, but i don’t want to say it will be consistent or push myself too hard right now. especially if i do decide to go inpatient! however, the queue will not stop posting regardless of what happens because i am queued up till september lol but i will post another update if hospitalization is what i decide to do.
i love you all so very much!!! thank you for your support and love and kind words during this incredibly difficult time in my life. i will be back, hopefully soon in full swing and with amazing vigor! ☺️ i will talk to y’all soon, ilysm 💕
- ish 💕
#ish talks#updates#not stim#mental health mention#mental health crisis mention#physical health mention#hospitalization mention#anxiety mention
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Gale Cleven post! war with a classmate! Reader of his when he goes back to college? And what their relationship would be like if you could :) good luck with school!
thank you, love! I know you sent it around that time I was working on my thesis but now when I'm posting this... I'm so behind the uni work, it's almost funny 🤡 anyway, thank you for your request as well, because it was very interesting and something fresh and new 👨🏻🎓 I enjoyed writing it and it turned out to be quite long for a "short story" lol
I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻
There was a new boy on the campus – well, a man, really. He was older than most students and some confused him with one of the lecturers. You went to one of the classes with him and sometimes you found yourself staring when he was not looking but you were not the only one to do so.
He was handsome – very handsome, you’d say. And his eyes were a beautiful shade of blue while his hair was blond and neatly combed with a reckless strand sometimes falling down on his forehead while he was taking notes. His name was Gale Cleven and he was mysterious. He didn’t talk about himself much and he was not very social in general. You couldn’t recall a time when you would spot him having a chat with anyone. His cheeks had small, thin cuts all over them and you wondered where they had been from. Could they be the reason for his mysterious behaviour? Or maybe they were a part of a bigger picture, some sort of backstory that made him so quiet and stoic?
On the other hand, it was not like he never laughed. When someone made a joke out loud, Gale Cleven would laugh with everyone else and his beautiful, melancholic eyes sparkled with joy. You knew, because you watched him carefully. Despite the mystery, he didn’t have an eerie aura of a bad boy. There was goodness and kindness all over his face; maturity that other boys around you lacked. They just wanted to party and have fun like typical students and most of their topics to discuss were about sports, drinks, girls and the war that had ended not so long ago. However, the American boys still talked about the planes, the guns, the tanks and the heroes. You couldn’t be interested in dating any of them. Not to mention, as a woman in college you could not afford any distractions. You had been working hard to be able to study there and you did not want to miss that opportunity. You couldn’t start getting worse grades or suddenly decide to drop out and get married – God forbid get pregnant. No, that would be a disappointment to your family and to yourself, too. Because your goal was to get a degree for yourself.
The day was warm and sunny, so you were sitting under a tree with your roommate Kathy. She was a chatty girl – sometimes annoyingly – but she was also social for the both of you. So, she would tell you all the gossip and all the drama that had taken place during the parties. Thanks to her, you were always updated on the social life of the campus. But since you were both studying for the upcoming exam, she was unusually quiet on that day.
That changed when from the corner of your eye, you spotted Gale Cleven with a book in his hand, walking in your direction. He found himself a tree nearby and sat under it since no one else had been occupying that space. He opened the heavy book from the library with a leather brown cover and leaned on the tree to read the marked pages. You wanted to go back to reading your own book and your notes, but you couldn’t focus as your eyes began to wander in his direction over and over. Kathy giggled and you gazed upon her questioningly.
“What is it?” You asked.
“You’re so terrible at hiding it,” she rolled her eyes. “You fancy him.”
“I do not!” You gasped, scared that she knew your deeply hidden secret. In fact, you didn’t want to admit it even to yourself because you just did not want to get involved in any sort of romance or affair while working on your degree. Not that Gale Cleven would ever look back at you, anyway.
“Why do you write about him in your journal then?” Kathy asked and squinted her eyes as your heart skipped a beat.
“Are you reading my journal now?” You accused her.
“Oh, don’t be silly! I accidentally opened it the other day, thinking it was one of your notebooks for the class. I was looking for the notes from that lecture I missed. But no, it was your journal and I really didn’t want to read it but I couldn’t help but see that you mentioned him like three times on the same page!” Kathy giggled and you felt your cheeks warming up.
“I was just wondering about him. Where he’s from, what he's like. Everyone wonders that about him, don’t they?” You tried to come up with an excuse.
“I think I know, actually,” Kathy lowered her voice mysteriously and you leant in to listen. “You see, Jack told me,” she explained.
Jack was a guy she had been hanging around with for a while now and you expected them to go steady soon. Jack was also one of the most social guys on the campus and he was nice to everyone. It was easy to feel welcomed and secure in his company. He was one of those old money people who had everything but it didn’t spoil their character. You sometimes wondered why Jack wanted to date Kathy, who was a nice girl but a huge gossip. You couldn’t judge her too hard, though, since you were engaging in gossip as well. Just like right now.
“And how can Jack know anything?” You asked before she could say a word more.
“Because Jack’s been curious about that guy,” Kathy rolled her eyes at your disbelief in her soon-to-be boyfriend’s capability. “And he asked around. He even asked his father and, as you know, he’s quite a persona.”
“I am aware,” you nodded.
“So, Jack wondered how a guy like Gale Cleven had gotten himself to a school like that, you know?”
“And?” You asked, biting on your lower lip out of anticipation.
“Turns out he served in the last war and he’s quite a hero, too. He received some medals but he never picked them up,” Kathy explained and you tilted your head like a confused child or a cat. You weren’t sure what to think of that story. “Well, you have to admit, it would explain his age and the scars,” she continued. “And that’s not the end of the story. He didn’t just serve. He was a pilot. He was flying heavy bombers in Europe! And… he spent over a year in a POW camp in Germany.”
“Now, that sounds like a legend, you know? I like Jack but I think he reads too much of Francis Scott Fitzgerald,” you shrugged your arms. “Sounds too much like Gatsby or something.”
“You read too much of Francis Scott, not Jack!” Kathy giggled. “Look, he’s staring at us!”
You hissed at her, embarrassed with the volume of her voice as you turned around to look at Gale Cleven. He was indeed looking at you but he blushed and looked down at his book immediately after you turned around.
“I’m sure he knows we’re talking about him,” you were not very pleased with that.
“Oh, come on! Go to him,” Kathy pushed you slightly.
“What?! No way! We don’t talk to each other,” you protested, all stressed out as your heart pounded in your chest.
“Then that’s the best time to start. Go, ask him for a pencil,” she came up with that just like that and you realised why Kathy was such a social person who was friends with everyone and managed to get a guy like Jack. She just had those ideas out of nowhere, she knew how to start a conversation… She was a natural, really.
You rolled your eyes and fixed your skirt as you put your book and notes aside. After all, asking for a pencil was not that embarrassing, was it? You stood up and approached Gale Cleven with cold and sweaty hands. He looked up and it nearly took your breath away how handsome he was with those beautiful blue eyes and that one hair strand on his forehead.
“H-hi,” you waved shyly at him as he raised an eyebrow. “My name’s (Y/N),” you introduced yourself and regretted it immediately. You didn’t have to introduce yourself when you were just asking a stranger for the pencil, did you? Well, it was too late now. “We go to Modern History class together,” you pointed out.
“Yeah, I know who you are,” he nodded and gave you a genuine and warm smile that made it very difficult to stop yourself from giggling like a teenage girl. “I’m Buck,” he introduced himself.
“Buck?” You were surprised to hear that.
“That’s what friends call me,” he explained.
“Oh, I see…” You nervously played with your fingers. “Anyway, well, uh, I… I was wondering… Because I am studying for my exam and…” you pointed at the tree behind you where all your things and Kathy were. “I was thinking… Do you have a pencil on you perhaps? To lend me? I forgot to take mine from the dormitory,” you explained nervously and you suddenly realised that it all had sounded very fake and totally made up, actually.
But Buck did not seem to mind. He put his hand into the pocket of his trousers and handed you a pencil with a smile.
“There you go,” he said.
“Oh, thank you!” You took it from him and squeezed it in your fist. “You’re a lifesaver, really!”
“No big deal, (Y/N),” he winked at you and made you feel dizzy with the way he said your name out loud in that deep voice of his… and the wink did not help the sensation at all. “It’s just a pencil.”
“Um, well, thank you anyway. I will give it back!” You promised and smiled at him before running back to Kathy who had a huge grin on her face.
It wasn’t easy to go back to studying after that. You kept staring at Buck Cleven secretly and your eyes were only looking at the words in your notes but not reading them at all. And then, one time when you lifted your head up, he was gone.
“It’s good,” Kathy told you. “It means you have one more opportunity to approach him when you’ll be giving him his pencil back.”
You approached Buck after your exam when you went to the library to give the books back since you weren’t needing them anymore. He was sitting alone by one of the tables and reading a book as usual. So, when the librarian was already done with the pile you had given her, you approached Buck after finding his pencil in your purse. In fact, you had been walking around with it in your bag for a week now, looking for an occasion like this.
“Hey,” you started and he looked up. When he spotted that it was you calling him, he smiled gently. “I have something yours,” you reminded him as you handed him a pencil.
“Oh, thanks,” he took it from you as you suddenly felt a bit empty when you realised you had given back something that belonged to him and you could no longer play with it between your fingers as you daydreamed about him. “You didn’t have to give it back,” he added.
“I don’t like keeping other people’s things,” you explained. “Are you done with your exams this season?”
“Nearly,” he chuckled as he pointed at the book in front of him. “I have this one exam but… It’s easy,” he shrugged his arms. “I don’t really have to study for it,” he explained.
“I am nearly done with my exams, too,” you said. “And at the end of the week, when everyone will be free, there’s this party,” you started and immediately regretted it. What were you even doing? You didn’t know him enough to invite him to the party that was not even yours. And you weren’t planning to go to that party anyway! Also, you didn’t want to make him think you were one of those girls that were going to parties… So, why did you say that? And now, you had to continue the subject. “My roommate’s boyfriend is throwing a party for the end of the exams season,” you explained. “He’s renting a whole pub for that. Are you coming?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Buck answered. “I don’t know Jack that well.”
“Oh, so you know it’s Jack,” you chuckled nervously.
“Everyone knows who he is and that he throws these parties,” Buck winked at you. “You’re going, I assume?”
Well, it would be stupid to tell him now that you actually were not planning to.
“I was thinking of that. Because I have never gone to one of his parties. And you know, you don’t really have to be invited. Jack always says that everyone’s welcome,” you added and then you looked down. You started to feel like you were bothering Gale Cleven and your attempts to continue this conversation were starting to get pathetic and desperate.
“I’m not really a big party guy, sorry,” Buck answered.
“I’m not really a big party girl either,” you shrugged your arms. “Well, sorry to bother you… Good luck on your exam!” You tried to fight the tears pricking your eyes as you turned around on your heel to walk away.
“(Y/N), wait,” Buck’s distressed voice made you turn around. He looked nervous all of sudden and sort of guilty, too. That made you furrow your brows. “If you decide not to go to that party… Maybe we could just go somewhere alone? Just the two of us, I mean. A walk in the park or a cafe,” he proposed. “I know it’s not as fun as Jack’s party but… Well, I appreciate your invitation. I really do,” he assured you.
“Oh, I… I think it sounds great!” You sniffed the tears back and gave him a smile. He sighed with relief and smiled back at you. “We can go for a cup of hot chocolate as they get drunk like animals,” you chuckled nervously and Buck nodded.
“Call me boring but that sounds so much better to me,” he admitted.
“That would make us both boring then,” you smiled. “So, on Friday? At six perhaps?”
“Friday at six,” Buck nodded. “Let’s meet outside by the monument.”
“Great! I will be there!” You promised before leaving the library, not believing your own happiness as you were smiling like an idiot to yourself.
Still, some part of you felt as if Buck had only asked you to go out with him because he was feeling guilty about the way he had treated your invitation to the party.
Kathy regretted that you were not going to Jack’s party but she understood this time. At least on that night you were missing out on it because of some sort of a date and not like usual; when you had just been reading books or listening to the records alone in your room. She even helped you with your hair and make-up and she lent you her beautiful silk scarf to put around your neck. She also allowed you to use her expensive perfumes that had been a gift from Jack. You had never been so dolled up in your whole life. You hoped that Buck would appreciate that.
On the other hand, a guy as handsome as him… probably had been on real dates with real beauties before. As you were staring at yourself in the mirror for the one last time, you began to doubt yourself again. It was not a date… It was just a friendly meeting and he would never look at you in the same way you were looking at him. Those were the words of your tiny, ugly voice inside your head.
But you shook it off and hurried to the meeting spot since it was five to six. Buck was already there.
“Oh, my!” You greeted him. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not late,” he glanced at the watch on his hand. “You’re just in time,” he smiled.
“Are you sure you want to go with me?” You asked, shyly.
“What do you mean? I was the one to ask you out, was I not?” Buck furrowed his brows.
“Yes… I know… But… I feel like you asked me out only because you thought I was sad about you not accepting the party invitation,” you admitted.
“I didn’t accept the invitation because I don’t like parties. But I don’t mind spending a nice evening with you,” Buck explained. “So, shall we go now? Or are you having second thoughts?”
“No, no, I don’t!” You protested and he chuckled. “Let’s go!” You said and he offered you his arm.
You walked to the cafe nearby the campus where they sold the best hot chocolate and tasty pastries. You asked Buck about his exams and he asked you about yours but your whole conversation was about college.
When you were sitting by the window and staring at people walking down the street in silence, waiting for your order, you began to start feeling uncomfortable. You felt the need to talk about something but you were scared of asking something offensive.
“I was wondering…” You started after taking a deep breath in. “There are a lot of rumours about you. And you don’t have to answer me that, you really don’t. But are they true?” You batted your eyelashes and he gave you a soft and kind of sad smile.
“Depends on what kind of rumours,” he nodded.
“Jack says you were a pilot…” You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled as the waitress brought your cups and plates with croissants.
“Thank you,” Buck told her and nodded at her as she walked away. “No, don’t be sorry,” he addressed you again. “It’s true. Everything Jack says about me is true. After all, his father funds this school, does he not? He took a look into my papers.”
“He shouldn’t have done that,” you pointed out. “Jack is really nice but he’s nosy sometimes.”
“It’s fine. Funding such a place comes with privileges, I guess,” Buck shrugged his arms.
“You never talk about it,” you said and dared to lay your eyes on him again but he didn’t look annoyed at all. “There are a few guys here who served. And one girl that was in Europe, too. And they talk about it all the time.”
“I don’t want to be known as that guy who was in Europe and flew heavy bombers. Although, I guess it’s too late now,” Buck laughed nervously as he sipped on his hot chocolate. “And, you know, I really am no hero, no matter what Jack says. I flew a few missions and got shot down and then spent over a year in a camp,” he explained.
“Really, I’m sorry for bringing this up… We don’t have to talk about it,” you shook your head.
“I was scared you listened to the other gossip about me, you know,” he teased but you had no idea what he was talking about. “Some guy around campus says that I’m a hiding serial killer from the South.”
“Now, that is ridiculous,” you rolled your eyes.
“I know but my scars seem to convince a few people,” he whispered and blushed.
“Those people are full of shit then!” You snapped and then you froze, realising what you had just said. Your eyes widened out of terror and you felt your cheeks heating up as Buck chuckled. “Oh God, I’m terribly sorry! I shouldn’t have said that…”
“Don’t be sorry, love. Do you think I don’t know that women use such language, too?” He smirked at you and you sighed with relief but the little voice in your head kept convincing you that you had just ruined all your chances with that man. “The nurses in the base in England… They cursed like sailors, some of them. They were cussing us out for not being careful enough. And they were the bravest and loveliest women I have known,” he assured you.
“Have you dated any of them?” You asked and you bit yourself on your tongue. Why did you keep embarrassing yourself like that? Dear God, you were awful!
“No, I have not,” Buck answered with a smile and a shake of his head. “I focused on my job.”
“Like I am focusing on my studies now,” you nodded. “It’s important for me to get that degree. I believe women should have easier access to education and, you know, maybe one day I’ll end up like most of them… As a housewife and a mother… I don’t mind. But at least I will have that degree,” you explained.
“Yes, I agree that women should have easier access to education,” Buck agreed with you. “Everyone, in that matter.”
“Yes, of course,” you nodded. “By the way, don’t listen to those awful people. Your scars only prove your bravery,” you pointed out and he blushed again.
“Really, no bravery to talk about. I just did my job,” he laughed nervously.
“You might be humble about it but it won’t change my mind,” you insisted.
“So, what do you do in your free time when you’re not studying, darling?” Buck changed the topic nonchalantly and your eyes sparkled at the way he addressed you.
“I listen to music and I read books. I journal, too. Sometimes I go to the movies,” you answered.
“I like the movies, too. We should go together sometime,” he proposed and you smiled widely at him. “I take that as a yes,” he chuckled.
“Have you seen Gilda?” You asked, carefully.
“No, not yet. But I’ve heard it’s a nice movie,” Buck answered.
“Oh, it’s amazing. I have seen it a few times! I would love us to go see it together,” you proposed.
“But you can’t spoil me anything,” Buck teased and you pretended to zip your mouth with your fingers. “Good,” he nodded with a smile.
You continued to talk about the movies and some music, avoiding the subject of the war since you felt as if you had already pushed too far with that before. Around eight, Buck said it would be best for you both to go back, so he helped you to put your coat back on like a real gentleman and even complimented on your perfumes as you were walking out of the cafe.
“They’re not really mine,” you admitted, not wanting to lie to him. “Kathy allowed me to use hers. They were a gift from Jack and had to cost a fortune,” you confessed with a giggle.
“I’m sure your perfumes are just as nice,” Buck assured you and took you by your arm as you began walking back to the campus.
You kept talking about silly things until you found yourselves by the front door leading to the female dormitory. You stood there, facing each other a little awkwardly. And when you were about to tell him goodnight and turn around to go inside, he slowly leaned in to cup your face in his hands. Watching your reaction carefully, Buck joined your lips together in a sweet and delicate kiss. Your heart pounded so fast, you were afraid it would explode any given moment.
When he broke the kiss, you batted your eyelashes at him with a huge smile, warm cheeks and sparkles in your excited eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been out with someone and I couldn’t wait to kiss you,” he admitted.
“Don’t be sorry, Gale,” you whispered, feeling a little overwhelmed and not being able to believe what had just happened.
“I know you don’t want this sort of thing to distract you from your studies,” he took a step back.
“As if Mr. I-don’t-like-parties could ever distract me,” you chuckled, making him blush. You held his hands and squeezed them. “Anyway, you’ve been distracting me already from the moment you showed up on the campus,” you admitted and bit on your lower lip.
“Oh, thank God,” Buck laughed. “I was scared you’d admit I was right and it would be best for us to stop seeing each other.”
“You promised me the cinema date,” you pouted. “Let’s have at least that before I call it quits.”
“Well, I’ll do my best for you not to call it quits,” Buck leaned in again to place another soft kiss upon your lips.
The thing that made you break the kiss this time was a loud noise from afar, coming from the pub where Jack’s party was taking place. The sound of shattering glass and people’s laughter startled you both.
“I am so glad we didn’t go there,” you admitted. “Hot chocolate is so much nicer than that.”
“It was good,” Buck winked at you, “but I wish it was as sweet as you, love,” he breathed out and gave you yet one more kiss as your cheeks heated up and you placed your hands flat on his chest.
MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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For the Love of Love | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw | Part III
Part I | Series Masterlist
Summary: It's time for Bradley to meet the family. Good luck :)
Word count: 5k
a/n: I started writing this in winter, and now summer is literally coming up on my ass lol. Shoutout to the southern hemisphere, this fic is in season there. But seriously, regardless of where you are in the world, hope y'all enjoy x
As your family barreled down the cabin stairs, you turned to Bradley. You weren’t sure you got the reassurance you needed when he looked up from fixing his hair in the rearview mirror, winked, and said, “Good luck, you’ll need it.”
You rolled your eyes and swung open the car door. As soon as your feet hit the ground, Tommy nearly tackled you into the snow.
Your brother was somehow still growing. Much to your annoyance, he was even taller than when you saw him last. Still, he smelled like your parents’ house, and being in his arms was like sneaking a slice of your childhood from behind the universe’s back.
When Tommy finally let you go, you didn’t have a moment to breathe before Georgia crushed you in another hug. You had forgotten how nice it was to be in the arms of the woman you would one day call your sister-in-law. Her reddish, curly hair tickled your cheek and her words warmed your core as she whispered in her gentle manner, “I’m so glad to see you again.”
Nora and Sabrine were waiting for their turn to greet you, Nora somewhat less patiently. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, sending her thick braid slapping against her puffy green vest. Sabrine was a stiller picture. She wore a soft smile, but her wide brown eyes narrowed, and she raised protective hand over her baby bump when she caught sight of the stranger unfurling himself from the passenger seat.
“Oh, guys,” you said. Your nerves were singing as you put the plan into place, no matter how much you practiced (which you were realizing wasn’t nearly enough). “I’d like everyone to meet my boyfriend, Bradley.”
Tommy cocked his head. “Boyfriend? I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
Nora took a step back, trying to fit you and Bradley together in a single picture. Sabrine’a gaze stayed hard.
From the porch, your Aunt Marnie called out, “Who’s the handsome gentleman in the driveway?”
You worried your fingers, shifted from foot to foot. It was impossible to force words through your teeth as your family looked at you for an answer.
Bradley saved the already sinking ship by rounding the car and slipping a hand around your waist, which made it as hard for you to stand as it was for you to talk. He stuck out his hand toward Tommy. “Nice to see you again.”
Tommy took his hand but looked at you with one eyebrow raised.
Though you were struggling to balance on two wobbly legs, Bradley’s hand on your waist was strangely comforting. He was the other half of this insane plan, after all. With his support, your words finally tumbled out of you.
“Surprise! I didn’t want to mention it until I knew I was sure but…” You rested a shaky hand on Bradley’s chest. “I’m sure.”
Your words thickened the mountain air as Tommy, Nora, and Sabrine tried to make sense of your surprise. Thank god for Georgia, who nearly tackled Bradley in a giant hug. Her decision swayed the others, who closed around him and welcomed him into the family by giving him too little personal space and too many questions to answer.
At least he handled it well enough that everyone’s attention was drawn to him, and you could slip away to unload the trunk.
Graciously, Bradley carried your luggage up to the cabin. Tommy, Georgia, and Nora swarmed him like summer bugs to a campfire. Even Sabrine softened and asked about your flight. You’d never brought anyone home, and you could safely assume they hadn’t expected you to bring a giant naval aviator to Grandma and Grandpa’s 60th wedding anniversary. You smiled, though the mountain air left you a bit breathless.
Auntie Marnie held the door open as you all piled into the cabin. The fire was flickering in the living room, chasing off the cold that trailed you inside. Hugs from everyone chased off the numbness of your skin. There was Grandma Sybil, who eyed Bradley with such suspicion that you were sure your ruse had been found out already. Grandpa Thomas, who tussled your hair and smelled just a little bit like cigarettes. Sabrine’s husband Matt gave you a ginger hug that couldn’t belie how new he was to the family. Owen and Addison gave you one big hug (they almost always move as a single unit).
Your parents saw Bradely (he was hard to miss), but they stayed focused on you.
“My baby.” Your mom’s voice coated you like a warm honey, though her words struck a chill through you. “How are you? Why didn’t you tell us about Bradley?”
“Umm…” Maybe it was more than just the thin mountain air leaving you breathless. “I just wanted to be sure before I told you all.”
It sounded more convincing outside, with the ancient pines to bear witness. In the living room crammed with people, your lie was somehow much less believable. Your mother’s eyes were cold as they searched yours, but they broke away when your dad enveloped you in a hug.
“Missed you, kiddo.” He kissed the crown of your head.
“Missed you too, Dad.”
But even if your surprise was on shaky ground thanks to Grandma Sybil and your mom, yours was not the only surprise. You were shocked — and grateful — to find that while Nora and Madison had summited K2, they had most recently embarked on a new kind of adventure.
His name was Henry, he had curly brown hair, and he was 3 years old. Grandpa Thomas had pulled out you and your cousins’ old toys, and Henry was playing contently on the bearskin rug with a Tickle Me Elmo and a smattering of Polly Pockets, some of the dresses bearing permanent teeth imprints.
In the current of people, you found yourself reaching for Bradley like he was a rock you could cling to in the storm. Like he was really your boyfriend. For his part, he grabbed your hand and didn’t let go, not when your dad clapped him on the shoulder and said “I trust you’re taking good care of her” and not when your mom locked eyes with him and only smiled.
You jumped in, despite the nervousness bubbling in your throat. “He’s taking good care of me, Mom and Dad. I’m very happy.”
“And I’m happy whenever she’s happy.” Bradley sealed the deal with a wink that left you studying the floor.
Auntie Elaine walked into the room like a force of nature, her cheeks permanently red, maybe from the freezing Alaskan winds. She clapped once, commanding everyone’s attention like you all were her sled dogs. “Come on, people, stop swarming the two. I’m sure they want to go upstairs and get settled.”
The knot of people around you loosened. You mouthed her a thank you, and she gave you a nod with the barest hint of a smile.
Bradley carried all your luggage up the staircase. Two flights up to your little attic room. It smelled like the vanilla cupcake body mist you wore every day as a teen — and it probably always would. The steeply slanted roof cut into the room, making it seem even smaller than it already was.
Bradley dropped the bags with several resounding thumps. Instead of his attention falling to the window which offered a glimpse of the lake, his eyes were on the full sized bed shoved into the corner of the room, the ceiling hanging low over it.
You rubbed the back of your neck. Your grandma had crocheted the pink, red, and blue afghan that dressed up the bed, somehow making it look smaller and more juvenile.
Fuck. It wasn’t like you could offer Bradley the couch if you were to be the perfect couple. “I forgot about this. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.” Bradley chuckled. “Well, do you think they bought it?”
“I think so?” The room was so small you could hear the rhythm of his breathing. “I’m so happy Nora and Madison surprised everyone with Henry, though. Hopefully that means the heat will be off us.”
“Everyone is very interested in our dating life. Well, Georgia and your Auntie Marnie, at least. I told them we’ve been dating for five months, sorry.”
“It’s fine.” You ran a hand over the solid oak dresser, your fingertips collecting powdered sugar dust. “They’ll probably want to know everything. It’s ok if there are some small discrepancies, as long as we look the part.”
His eyes finally ripped away from the bed. He took in the Raggedy Anne doll on your nightstand, the one Grandpa Thomas brought to the hospital when you were born. Your high school copy of Frankenstein laid open next to it, its worn pages exhausted by silly teenaged annotations. The bikini you wore last summer — bright red and studded with white polka dots — hung from the back of an old rocking chair. It clashed absurdly with the gleaming snow that frosted the pines outside. You fumbled to stuff it in the first dresser drawer you managed to fling open.
You were soaked into every part of this bedroom — from the shag rug to the yellow-wood walls. Bradley standing in it (his hair skimming the slanted ceiling) made you feel naked.
He tapped a plastic orange frame perched on your dresser. It was a picture taken from the lakeshore of you and Nat on a paddleboard almost a decade ago. Not five seconds after Tommy had snapped the photo, the two of you had plunged into the lake. But that was something you’d tell Bradley if you’d invited him into your room because you loved him, not because you were tricking your family into thinking you’d finally found someone.
So instead you said, “Are you ready to face my family again?”
“Am I ever?”
He held out his hand, and after a moment of hesitation, you took it. Your fingers were a bit sweaty, but he gave you a reassuring squeeze as you two descended the stairs, the clamor of your family growing louder with each step. Your mind was dizzy trying to comprehend that Bradley Bradshaw was meeting your family. You’d daydreamed about this more often than you would ever admit. You just wished it was real.
You had to give him credit; he played the role of your secret-almost-but-not-quite-long-term boyfriend very well. He talked easily with your dad about the NBA playoffs. He withstood the questions Tommy lobbed at him about flying planes. He played dominos with you and your aunts. He helped Sabrine in the kitchen until he snuck too much cookie dough and she shooed him out. He made your heart flutter when he got on the floor and played trains with Henry.
“Choo choo!” He said as he pushed a bright red engine with a mismatched purple caboose down the wooden tracks on the living room floor.
Henry giggled and ran a yellow engine up Bradley’s leg.
You hid your smile with a sip of cocoa, but Bradley caught sight of you across the room and beckoned you to join. You sat next to him, a little farther than an actual girlfriend would. He closed the gap by circling an arm around you. You almost didn’t flush at his touch after spending nearly the whole day at his side. Almost.
Nora and Madison were watching the three of you from the love seat, Madison’s legs flopped over Nora’s, comfy silence stretched over them like a quilt. Your heart quickened at the sight of actual love. Bradley’s arm suddenly felt foreign against you.
Before your thoughts spiraled too far, Henry offered you a passenger car to play with. You set it on the tracks, but he shook his head.
“Like this.” He ran his train down Bradley’s leg.
“Hey,” Bradley said through a giant grin. “My legs aren’t train tracks!”
But your little cousin had given you clear instructions, and you followed them. A warmth rippled through you as the wheels of the toy train car gilded smoothly over Bradley’s sweatpants. He'd been comfortable touching you since the moment you’d met on a particularly rowdy night at the Hard Deck (because any friend of Nat’s was a friend of his). During that first bear hug, some part of him must have broken off and lodged in your heart, and you’d spent so long trying to pry it out or ignore it that it felt nice to actually indulge it. It wasn’t so much a splinter anymore as it was a shard of heat warming you from the inside. For the weekend, at least.
Someone stepped between you and the fire, blocking the heat. You looked up. Grandma Sybil was studying the two of you from behind her wire rimmed glasses.
“Dear,” her voice was clear like someone fifty years younger than herself, “why don’t you and Bradley come sit on the couch with me? I’d love the company.”
You tensed. You couldn’t remember if you warned Bradley enough about Grandma Sybil. You’d seen her question so many significant others, but that had never concerned you. Now it was Bradley’s turn, and he wasn’t even your significant other. But your grandma had already turned and was walking to her recliner, expecting you both to follow, so you let Bradley help you to your feet.
The two of you dropped awkwardly onto the couch. There was enough room between the two of you that you might have looked like strangers if not for the hand holding. With the fire and the oven on, it was really hot. And Grandma Sybil looked mightily unimpressed with the couple before her.
You scooted closer to Bradley, and he nearly pulled you into his lap. He gave you a look like Am I doing this right? The knots in your stomach knotted into more knots, but your grandmother held your full attention. She was the matriarch, and her judgment in your favor was crucial to keep up the ruse.
“Tell me,” she sat down on her recliner with a bit of effort, “Bradford –”
“Bradley,” you interjected on his behalf.
She waved you off. “What do you like about our granddaughter so much?”
You felt his breath catch a little. You clutched his hand in a death grip.
“She’s kind.” Bradley’s voice was steady. “She loves her family. I know she’ll always be there for me if I’m there for her. And when I first saw her, she took my breath away.”
Your heart swelled in spite of yourself, but Grandma Sybil seemed unconvinced, so you pipped in. “He’s a sweetheart, Grandma. He flies planes for the navy.”
She readjusted her glasses but didn’t say anything.
“He’s Nat’s friend.” You tried again.
“Oh, Natasha.” Grandma Sybil finally smiled. “What a great girl. How is she?”
“She’s doing good.” It was easier to speak now. “She wishes she could be here, but she had work. She’s very in demand.”
Grandma Sybil looked pointedly at Bradley. “And how do you know Natasha?”
“Grandma, I just told you; he flies planes for the navy.”
“It’s ok.” Bradley rested his free hand on your arm. He was getting good at this. “I work with Nat a lot. She’s the perfect person to have with me in the sky.”
Grandma Sybil adjusted her glasses as if she was seeing Bradley in a new light. “Well, if Nat thinks you’re a good fit for our granddaughter –”
“She does,” you said.
“– then welcome to the family.”
She struggled out of the recliner and took Bradley’s face between her hands. She gave him a kiss on each cheek, then did the same for you.
“I knew you’d like him,” you told her. “He’s a catch, huh?”
She ignored you and stared into his eyes. “You be good to her, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bradley channeled his inner military man and straightened like a flagpole.
Even if he didn’t realize, he was being good to you. Only an insane person, or a really good friend, would try to help someone trick their family this way. You felt bad he had go through all the pains of meeting his girlfriend’s family without the girlfriend, but he smiled down at you with his big brown eyes, still holding your hand, and you felt as if – just maybe – there was some piece of you lodged in his heart.
Before you could properly chase that thought out of your head, Henry started crying. Nora and Madison rushed from their spot on the love seat to soothe him. Their attempts weren’t really working, and his cries mixed with the clinking of dominoes and the clattering of pots and pains threatened to raise a headache in you.
Your eyes fell to the hot tub on the porch.
“Hey Bradley?” You asked under the current of noise.
“Yes?” Did you imagine the twitch of his upper lip? Had your grandmother actually rattled him?
It was ok, though, because you had the perfect relaxing antidote to his troubles.
“Join me in the hot tub?”
You hadn’t known if Bradley would bring his swimsuit that he practically lived in during San Diego summers, but he confessed he had because he heard Lake more than Tahoe. It wasn’t like it was freezing in San Diego, he argued.
You suppressed your laugh up in your stuffy attic room as he stood with the Hawiian print swim trunks in hand.
“What?” He said. “I’m using them, aren’t I?”
“I guess. In a 102 degree hot tub, though, not the lake.” You were pulling your bikini out of the drawer you’d crammed it in earlier.
You both stood, pink shag rug between you, holding onto your swimsuits and staring at each other.
“What are we waiting for?” Bradley grinned. “We’ve been dating for five months.”
You stared at him.
“I’m teasing.” That’s what he said, but in the same breath he pulled his hoodie and shirt off with one swift motion.
Jesus Christ, you forgot how good he looked without a shirt. Your lungs absolutely refused to fill with enough oxygen.
“Hey.” His expression softened toward you, the playfulness traded for something more reassuring. “I won’t look if you promise not to look.”
“Promise.” The word hung limp in the air as you both turned your backs and shimmied into your swimsuits. You stared out your tiny window as you pulled on the bikini bottoms, watching the snow glare in the sunlight and trying to keep your mind from the fact that you and Bradley were basically naked in your old bedroom.
“You ready?” He asked.
You were fumbling with the tie of your bikini top. “Just a sec.”
The seconds passed like drops of snow melt. You counted every one. As more and more slipped by, the clumsier your fingers became.
“Bradley, are you looking?”
“No, ma’am.”
You sucked in a deep breath, “I can’t get this top tied. Can you help?”
“’Course.” He passed over your rug and took the strings from your hands. His fingers were warm as they grazed your back. “Is this too tight?”
“No, that’s perfect.” You were lightheaded with his body so close to yours, his breath tickling the bare skin of your shoulders, his beachy scent cutting through the lingering smell of your teenage body spray. With a shock, you remembered your manners. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem.” He patted your shoulder. “Now, I think there’s a hot tub somewhere around here, and it’s got our name on it.”
The freezing air stabbed your bare skin as you and Bradley ran out the front door and across the porch to the hot tub. You both practically dove into it, letting the warm water bring feeling back to your skin.
“Can they see us?” Bradley nodded towards the cabin windows from the opposite side of the tub.
“Most definitely.” If you stole a glance, you could see at least five of your family members watching you two from in front of the fireplace. “Are we selling it?”
He chuckled. “Not at all. We look like strangers. Could you get any farther from me?”
“Sorry. We’ve only been together every minute since 6:15 this morning.”
His expression flickered, but before you could figure out with what, it flattened into a smile again. “Well, do you want to convince your family or not?”
“I do.”
He opened his arms. “Then get over here.”
You swam over to his waiting arms and settled practically in his lap.
“What are we doing?” You asked, laying your head against his chest, careful to not lean too much of your weight onto him. Careful not to let your heart beat out of your chest.
“I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I’m having a great time in Tahoe.”
“Sorry about my grandmother.” You drifted your hand along the surface of the water.
“She just wants to know you’re ok. And I was more than happy to reassure her.”
You opened your mouth – to say you weren’t ok, look at what you were doing – but heavy steps along the deck stopped you. You turned to see Tommy and Georgia in swimsuits made of the same matching green gingham fabric.
“Mind if we join?” Your brother asked, but he was already climbing over the side of the tub.
“Sure,” you answered, though you knew he wasn’t actually asking for permission.
Georgia slipped in after Tommy. She smiled with a hint of apology in her green eyes. “Thanks.”
For a moment, no one said anything. Tommy and Georgia sat across from you, fitting against one another like puzzle pieces. He draped an easy arm over her shoulder, and she entwined her fingers with his without thinking. No asking for permission. No awkwardness here. You suddenly felt very aware of Bradley’s hard body against yours.
Slowly, conversation eased around you all. Tommy and Georgia talked about school – over on the east coast – where he was studying accounting and she was studying biochemistry. Bradley talked about working as a pilot, deployments on aircraft carriers, and the general tomfoolery he and the Daggers got up to. Tommy said Sabrine was upset that her child wouldn’t be the first grandchild after Henry. Georgia said your grandparents were upset because Owen and Addison were leaving tonight. Something about having to miss the anniversary dinner because it’s her mom’s birthday, and they’re celebrating in the Bahamas.
You spoke a little, but mostly you basked in the soft silence the conversation afforded you, counted icicles hanging from the eaves, and tried not to think so hard about relaxing into Bradley’s body. If Tommy and Georgia couldn’t be fooled, it was hopeless.
“So…” Tommy gestured with his and Georgia’s hand at the two of you. “Who said I love you first?”
“What do you mean?” Your voice came out cold and sharp like the icicles above without you meaning to.
Bradley put a reassuring hand on your thigh. You hadn’t meant to get defense, and your brother raised his eyebrows at you.
Georgia kicked a foot out of the water, showing off her pink toenails. “They say you can tell a lot about a couple based on who said I love you first and when.”
“Who says that?” Your voice was softer.
“We do.” She and Tommy said in sync.
“Well,” Bradley started before you could say anything and make it worse. “I did. We were at our usual bar. I was a little drunk, and she just looked so stunning I couldn’t help myself, so –”
“It was charming,” you said. “He played our song on the piano. It was so romantic.”
He nodded. “A little embarrassing too. All our friends were there.”
“It was sweet, though.” You kicked him lightly under the jets. You were supposed to be the perfect couple, why was he trying to play up his embarrassment of an event that never actually happened?
“Charmingly, embarrassingly sweet.” He settled on the story and you nodded along.
Georgia asked, “What’s your song?”
“Oh, umm, what’s it called, sweetie? It’s…” You looked at Bradley, suddenly blanking on every song title ever.
Bradley looked up, the gears in his brain so obviously turning you didn’t think Georgia or even Tommy would buy your relationship. Finally, he snapped his fingers. “It’s called Great Balls of Fire.”
Ok, so he had blanked on every song title as well if the only one he could pull out of his ass was the one he played every weekend night at the Hard Deck. At least you were equally hopeless at thinking on the fly.
Tommy and Georgia nodded slowly. When it was clear neither of you had anything else to add, Georgia asked, “How long were you dating?”
“Three months,” you said at the same time Bradley said, “One month.”
Confusion spread across their faces like frost over a window.
“Well, it’s kind of funny…” You trailed off when you couldn’t think of a kind of funny explanation.
“We’d known each other for three months,” Bradley picked up your slack. “But had only been official for one. But we’ve been in love from the moment we laid eyes on each other, so the math gets complicated.”
He squeezed your thigh, and the condensation of your breaths mingled in the late afternoon sun. Panic prickled your skin. If only he’d known how true his words rang, if only for you.
Luckily, Tommy and Georgia began talking about how they met in high school algebra class, and the conversation steered safely away from the topic of your relationship.
When the sun set, everyone jumped out of the hot tub and raced back into the warmth of the cabin. You and Bradley took turns warming up in the shower and had your fill of the pizza Grandpa Thomas ordered.
Owen and Addison left the cabin with giant suitcases and sheepish smiles. Grandma Sybil’s anger burned brightly as they walked out the door. She launched into a diatribe about ungrateful grandkids. Funnily enough, her audience was made of her grandkids who had cared enough to stay. You swapped we'll-talk-about-this-later glances with your cousins. After a few awkward minutes, Grandpa Thomas ushered her to bed.
Everyone was quick to say their goodnights after that. You and Bradley headed up to your room. Only to be greeted by the problem of your full-sized bed.
“I could sleep on the floor,” you offered, unable to bear his silence.
He shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I can do that.”
You bit your lip. You didn’t want to sleep on the floor, but Bradley had already done so much for you. He withstood Grandma Sybil, lied in front of your whole family, and the fact that he was even in Tahoe to begin with was still blowing your mind. You could take the floor for him.
“Seriously, get comfy in bed.” You pulled down the afghan and the comforter and fluffed the pillow a little. “I’ll grab some extra blankets.”
You slipped out the door before he could protest. You snuck down to the second floor where the linen closet was, just outside your parents’ room. You twisted the knob carefully so as not to alert them, but the closet door whined open anyway. You gathered whatever sheets and blankets were on top and shut it quickly but quietly.
Just when you thought you were in the clear, your mother opened her bedroom door. “Honey, it’s late. What do you need?”
You both glanced down at the abundance of quilts and sheets bundled in your arms. You had to think of an explanation, quick.
“Well, Bradley gets very cold at night. And it’s drafty up there.”
Your mom crossed her arms over her chest. “You used to complain all the time about how stuffy it was in your room.”
“That’s true.” You laughed and couldn’t meet her eyes. “I guess I run colder now than I used to.”
She looked at you over the frames of her reading glasses.
“Well, goodnight, Mom.” You turned to run back up the stairs.
“Honey?”
You swore silently but turned around.
“Is everything ok?” She asked. “You’ve been acting a little strange ever since you got here.”
“Oh, nothing’s the matter. I’m fine. I’m fine. Just, work’s been crazy, and with Bradley meeting the family, it’s been really stressful.”
“Ok.” Her face, which you’d known your whole life, was unreadable. “Let me know if I can do anything for you. I love you.”
“Love you too. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
When you were little, Sabrine would tease you by telling you the cabin was haunted. With the way you raced back to your room, it might have well been.
Bradley – damn him – was lying on your rug by the time you got back.
“I told you to take the bed.” You dumped the blankets onto the ground.
“I know.” He sat up and started grabbing the discarded blankets. “But I’m a gentleman. Take the bed.”
You were beyond tired. It had been a long day, and Bradley was already cocooning himself in blankets on the floor. An argument now would just draw out the inevitable.
You sighed. “I’m giving you the bed tomorrow night.”
“Whatever helps you sleep better,” he mumbled.
You turned off the lamp. It was as stuffy as it always was in your room, but you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.
Sometime in the night, you woke to a shadow looming over you in the moonlight. You yawned and rubbed your eyes, thinking you were seeing things, but the shadow only solidified as your vision adapted to the low light. It was a tall, Bradley-looking shadow.
“Move over.” His voice was gruff with sleep.
You scooted toward the opposite edge of the bed, too tired to complain or ask questions. Your ancient bedframe squeaked as you shifted, practically screamed when Bradley sank onto your mattress.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled as a way of an explanation, but you were too sleepy to need one.
Your bed kept squeaking and groaning as the two tried to settle in without bothering the other. There was a small tug-of-war with the blankets. You lost because really, there was no way to win against Bradley in feats of strength.
You smiled to yourself in the darkness. Bradley Bradshaw was in your bed. He wasn’t touching you, and he stole most of your blankets, but he was in your bed.
His snoring filled the room as you drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Taglist:
@djs8891 @avengersfan25 @cornishkat @julielightwood @makingpeoplelaughsince1995 @abitdemented @darksparklesficrecs @igotmajordaddyissues @cupofchamomileeee @imaginationlover101 @simpfictionalcharacters @pizzapie349 @imaginecrushes @trashlandqueen @hookslove1592 @diorrfairy @allepaula @deakyjoe @the-chaotic-cow
#top gun maverick fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#rooster x reader#top gun fanfiction#rooster fanfic#bradley bradshaw x female reader
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An Annoying AroAce Experience
Before I start, I would like to provide some context. My sex is female, but my gender is x.
When I have a friend who presents as a guy, most people will assume that we're dating even though they know that a) we're just friends, and b) I'm AroAce. They even make this assumption when my guy friend is gay. LOL! When I have a friend who presents as a girl or androgynous, no one assumes a thing. (eye roll)
Story time: In senior school, my maternal uncle gave me date money because he thought that my best friend was my boyfriend. And no matter how many times I tried to explain the situation to him, he just couldn't understand that we're just really good friends. And when this friend got a girlfriend, he gave me money and told me to treat myself because breakups are hard. He also thought it weird that I remained his friend. And when this friend broke up with his girlfriend and started dating a guy, my uncle gave me money once again to treat myself saying that it wasn't my fault that my ex ended up gay. OMG! I then spent a good fifteen minutes explaining the terms bisexual and AroAce to him. And to no avail! To this day, whenever I see him, he still asks if my ex is gay, and if I have a boyfriend yet. (scream into a pillow) At this point, I don't think he'll ever get it.
To be honest, I really can’t make sense of this heteronormative, allosexual world that I find myself in. In fact, I often find it quite insane and incomprehensible. Anyone else feel the same?
Note: A comment by @aaa-arco-iris on my post "Coming Out as AroAce-Things People Say" made me think of this. Thank you!
Well, that's all I have for today. Until next time, take care and stay curious.
#lgbtqia#aroace#asexual#aromantic#heteronormativity#allosexuality#asexuality#aromantism#experience#agender#nonbinary#transgender
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its so cool how you invented being aromantic
thank youuuu!!!!!! my efforts often go unnoticed so this means a lot to me <2
#/j obviously#but thank you for the ask lol this made my day!!!#asks#my asks#aro#aromantic#aromance#aromanticism#aromantism#arospec#aro pride#actually aro#actually arospec#actually aromantic
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sighs dreamily chin on my hands feet kicking up while lying on my bed............. good lird above, I am so ace and so demiro but luka is just so,,,,,,,, he is SO much so good- whenever I see him drawn in your smooth as butter artstyle I swoon. human like and monster forms alike. Augh. I love Luka so much...... literally thank you for making him and I wish both you and him a bright and happy future
Thanks, here’s some old sketchbook scribbles from last year, just for you 💜
#ok but fr tho I genuinely think it’s sweet ppl think he’s cute#like it’s very flattering and it makes me happy anytime someone says as much lol#I also think he is cute which is why I like drawing him#thank you for enabling me I appreciate it 🙏🏼#and thanks for taking the time to leave this in my asks it made my day#get ready for 3000 more drawings of the same dude and his friends#cuz it’s been one of the only things keeping me going lately#soss
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medi is your pfp a sinosauropteryx? they're my favorite dinosaur :D
Yes!! I absolutely adore sinosauropteryx, it’s my favorite theropod! But microraptor also holds a special place in my heart :)
#my art#asks tag#dinosaur#sinosauropteryx#hii ted!!!#this made me very happy to get lol thank you#I haven’t been on for a couple days bc of real life events but there’s always time for a sino drawing#I need to prehistoric planet post soon….
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Do you have any headcanons for radiohuskerdust dynamic?
Im so sorry this took so long to reply to i literally let out a screech of joy when i got it and wanted to wait till i was home for the day so i could properly reply LOL
GOD YES I HAVE SOME♡ I HAVE MANY EEE
Overall i view Alastors role here as some flavor of queer platonic— he has the potential to be a caring partner but doesn't care much for romance specifically (yes my aromantic ass is projecting a lil shhhh)
My personal favorite take for them in canon is that eventually over the course of Alastors redemption he does eventually let Husk go— i have. Many feelings on that whole situation too but this is gonna be long already so SJDKEKDK just know i see them eventually getting to a point where they accept that neither of them are perfect and can let things go. Alastor considers Husk a very dear friend, and does in fact hold a high amount of respect for him, and Husk feels the same (although hes a little more Tsundere about it sksksksk)
Angel is very much so the glue that holds this ot3 together LOL
Like i think both Husk and Alastor fall for him first and through Angel find a way to actually communicate over the strange mix of feelings they've had with each other. Angels good at reading other people, he can tell they have *something* going on and isn't afraid to point it out.
I constantly see people making Angel hate Alastor but sorry no i do not agree at all.
Despite the initial impressions of each other, Alastor and Angel would be FANTASTIC friends. Once Alastor understands that Angels humor is just that, humor, hes not actually expecting anything from Al, he starts meeting Angel halfway on his jokes, adding onto them. Once they start to realize they can bounce off each other and actually bond oh god its OVER.
Alastor finds Angel actually very charming to be around, and Angel realizes Alastor isn't a prude or anything he just has some firm walls up.
God they'd be INSUFFERABLE together
You know that post thats like "i ship this ship but like specifically as a comedy duo" yeah thats radiodust in my heart LOL
They'd be the bane of Husks existence together.
Also Alastor is capable of being a huge gentleman and i can see him treating Angel to fancy dinners and "Dates". Alastor has no care for romance but he knows how to treat someone well and Angel basks in the attention.
They'd just VIBE so well!! Maybe its bc i spent years watching the hunniecast streams but god i think Radiodust make such a fun duo. If they put their heads together they can be a menace to society.
Alastor also gives off cheek/hand kiss vibes. He would do that shit and Angel is a sucker for it (both Husk and Alastor would treat him so well okay spider boy deserves it)
Husk and Angel have the most "Romantic" dynamic of the three ofc, and Alastor is happy to spend their date nights off doing his own thing. Huskerdusts dynamic is pretty much exactly as canon— i don't have many notes to add to it i Genuinely love how canon is handling them so far.
I won't dive off into nsfw here kwkfkwkd but i DO have thoughts on how that would work in this lineup.
I will say overall i see Angel as hypersexual, Husk as Demi, and Alastor as a sex neutral-Ace.
Like he just doesn't GET it but he can find some compromises if one of his partners askes.
#hazbin hotel#angel dust hazbin hotel#alastor hazbin hotel#husk hazbin hotel#radiohuskerdust#aaaaa thank you for the ask anon this made my day LOL#☁️💬
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Long time no see, I’m came with a quest this time! Are there songs that you associate with your fellow mutuals/followers/anons? I know how passionate you are about music so it’s something fun to do if you have time and energy ☺️ Have a nice week 💐
i love this ask!! i'll just go from the heart below the cut:
Magic Shop - BTS - @magicshop
Outro: Tear - BTS/Julia - Mt. Joy/Send for Me - The National - @raplinenthusiasts (<3)
My Time/Airplane pt. 2 - BTS - @cosmicdreamgrl
Epiphany/Outro: Tear - BTS - @epiphanytear
Serendipity - BTS - @captainassmerica
Love Maze/Trivia: Love - BTS - @aprylynn
Annie, Use Your Telescope - Jack's Mannequin - @kimtaegis (plus many others now...)
Face-off - Jimin - @spicyclematis
Lucifer - SHINee/Evermore - Taylor Swift/Intro: Never Mind - BTS - @wonpiris (hot combo)
Blue Side - j-hope/Weird Goodbyes - The National/Noah Kahan discography/i can fix him (no really i can) - Taylor Swift (unreleased i just know) - @hopeinthebox
Moon - BTS/Fearless - Taylor Swift - @thenighttrain
Spring Day - BTS - @jkvjimin
Anpanman - BTS - @anpanmann
So What - BTS - @rjshope
Intro: Never Mind - @kithtaehyung
Mikrokosmos - BTS - @mikrrokosmos
1 of 1 - SHINee - @namjoohyuk (ofc!!!!!!)
Trivia: Just Dance - BTS - @senor-hoberto
Friends - BTS - @heybaetae
The Astronaut - Jin - @jinstronaut
Set Me Free Pt. 2 - @setmefreeii
War of Hormone - BTS - @thv-hyung
SDL - Agust D - 💐 (😘)
#idk if everyone here is even a mutual or a follower but if i associate you with a song i tried to remember it here#some are thanks to your urls/what you are a ride or die for anyway.....#/what myself or others have made for you so i now associate that with you lol#i admire all of you <3 hope you have nice days#asks#now i'll leave you all to sit around and think about if i listen to these songs and twirl my hair while thinking about you <3#some of you i have hardly spoken to hope this isn't awkward!!!!!! bye#💐#thanks for the question love 💗#love when you come by
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i want desperately for you guys to know that this is how swanatello was born. he was designed and drawn in a span of approximately 30 minutes at work and made originally with the only intention being "pun." thanks @actuallynobutwhynot for getting me to make him lmao i gotta draw him and your sona together sometime.
#swanatello#and look at us now jfc#i didnt even intend for him to have any kind of a story i just sort of#made it up recently#as i did shitty doodles of him while talking about risesonas with friends#thanks also @ beanarry for making me want a donniesona in the first place#and @ sep council for bringing up risesonas and getting me to dust him off#and thanks @ bean again for getting me to post him lol i wasnt expecting anyone to??? care abt him#like to be fair its not like hes BLOWING UP or whatever but i have never gotta so much attention in my askbox before#and he has literally existed on tumblr for#like#four days#and i have gotten SO many asks and fanart and shit abt him and i am just blown away and also absolutely TICKLED#thanks gang#i am glad you like him#..... <3#i like him too#i like telling his story#and im really happy that i have kind of been tricked into just?#doing really shitty low effort doodles and being ok with that being what i post?#it is very freeing#anyway thanks <3#i will get to all the asks eventually#some of them im hanging onto#because answering them involves dropping MAD lore and sort of slingshotting the story forward and i dont wanna like#reveal everything right away ig?#so patience plz <3#i will get to everything i can eventually
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ꕥ| The fiercest woman in the galaxy
@honorarypines a million & one thanks for your kind comment about my Gamora art so here’s a lil doodle for ya✨
#I accidentally deleted your ask because I’m just wonderful at that#it really really really made my day#thanks for the ask!#asks#you can ask me things#can’t promise I won’t accidentally delete lol#my asks#gamora#guardians of the galaxy#gotg#gotg fanart#marvel#mcu#dovely draws#dovelywind
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tbh when mitski said “you’re my best friend/now i’ve no one to tell/how i lost my best friend”
#my freshman year of college my best friend and I were both a wreck#and on opposite sides of the country#during winter break I made the decision to share certain information with their parents bc I was actively concerned for their safety#they were deeply upset about me betraying their trust like that and asked for a break in our friendship#(a few months later (which happened to be early March 2020. lol) they did shrooms and realized they wanted to talk to me again lmao)#(so we talked and cried and now we’re still best friends almost 4 years later)#and my birthday is in january so it fell right in the middle of the period we weren’t talking#and my friends at school actually put together a really lovely party and it remains to this day the best bday party ive had#(most of my bdays have been sad and shitty lol)#but i just remember being drunk in my friends dorm room with my friends all around me#it was the end of the night people were just kinda chatting in little groups or whatever#and i was lying on my friends bed just miserable bc all I could think about was how my best friend was supposed to be there too#bc my parents were going to fly them out for the weekend as a present#and obviously that just got dropped#and id been talking to my friends about it kind of but all I wanted was my actual best friend#I left them a very embarrassing drunk voicemail that THANK GOD they deleted without listening to#but it’s just. the quiet agony of being angry and sad and hurt because your person doesn’t want to be ur person anymore#and still wanting to talk to them about it. still needing them to comfort you and give you their advice and insights#i don’t want to talk to anyone else about it. they’re not you.#sigh. anyway. ive actually lost several close friends for various reasons ranging from reasonable to bullshit#and it always blindsides me how much I want to talk to THEM about it#so thanks mitski for expressing that so artfully#op
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